


Holding On for Tomorrow

by vangoths



Category: Blur (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Attempted Sexual Assault, Drug Use, M/M, Nadsat (A Clockwork Orange), Non-Explicit Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:21:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 28,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25824313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vangoths/pseuds/vangoths
Summary: Written in the style of A Clockwork Orange by Anthony BurgessDamon is forced to participate in the crime that rules the streets at night. He meets Graham whom he takes a fancy to but has no choice but to lie so that he can be with Graham.But it is a way of survival, my brothers, and we don’t always get to choose the life we live. I only remind myself that I may be like them in word and manner but never in action and motive. But life is not as simple as black and white and we can best pray that we stay on the lighter part of the grey. Bog help us.Inspired by the music video for The Universal and the original novel.
Relationships: Damon Albarn/Graham Coxon
Comments: 21
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Alex is referring to Alex James and not the original character from the novel.

Part One

There was me, and I could viddy myself in the darkened glass of MELODIA, as I pulled my hat down lower and my scarf up to cover the lower half of my litso. I viddied my own reflection again before I set off. Bog help us. 

I made my way skorry along in the shadows, wits about me, always wits about, O my brothers. Running into the millicents would be trouble, me not being all the clean and pure. Running into a gang would be even more trouble, it being the time of night where they went about their like business razrezzing and tolchoking and even their filthy acts of the ultra-violence. It disgusted me. 

My own two rookers were none all that clean, I’ll admit, my brothers. But I would never involve in the acts those malchicks did, by Bog. 

I had my wits about as I slipped into the Korova Milkbar and made my way to the cubicle at the end of the mesto, where I knew he would be waiting for me. 

Came the gentleman’s goloss. 

“Ah yes, Damon.” 

“Alex,” I nodded at the malchick in front of me as I slid onto the cubicle seat. I could smell the von of like cologne on him. He was dressed in the heighth of fashion, always in the heighth of fashion, he was. He was handsome and charming, O brothers, but I knew better.

“You have something for me, I suppose?”

I handed him the envelope that I had nicked from that starry old veck just this morning. 

Alex slit the envelope open real slow with a like britva, “Ah yes, real horrowshow.” He said while nodding. 

Real horrowshow, I thought to myself. A word that I could never quite stomach. Why were the best things all horrorshow?

I didn’t always use to speak in the old nadsat, my brothers, that is to say, the street slovos, the language teenagers used in the streets. And to fit in I had no choice. But it takes over you, yes, and I found it taking over my vocabulary and soon even in the words of my thoughts. O my brothers. And I learned not to fight it, though sometimes it made me want to tolchock myself in the gulliver. But it is a way of survival, my brothers, and we don’t always get to choose the life we live. I only remind myself that I may be like them in word and manner but never in action and motive. But life is not as simple as black and white and we can best pray that we stay on the lighter part of the grey. Bog help us. 

I could viddy Alex viddying the contents of the envelope just a minoota longer, then he slid me a jangling pouch of cutter across the table. 

When I had viddied the notes and coins in it I just about fainted. O my brothers. I rabbited at the MELODIA selling Bogawful popdiscs to make a fraction of this in a week. 

“Thank you,” I kept my goloss low and even, not wanting to give hint that I had never viddied this like sum of money once my entire life. 

“To thee none the lesser, my brother,” Alex said while deftly lighting a cigarette. “How’s your old em?”

And this, brothers, made me viddy him clear and proper, though not too long. I had never told anyone the poor condition my mum was in, let alone tell someone like Alex. 

“Cancer?” he asked, offering me the packet. 

I accepted and leaned closer for the light. “Ah, the same old I reckon,” I shrugged, wanting to seem like nonchalant. I never told him, but it surprised me not, the fact he knew. That was just Alex, he had the connections, he knew anyone who was anyone and even some of the vecks way way way up. All that cal. 

We sat in silence as we finished our cancers. Alex, who finished his first, got up and patted me on the shoulder and said in his gentleman’s goloss, 

“Take good care of your poor old em, Damon. Goodnight, brother.”

“Night, Alex.” 

I took one last long and hard drag at my cancer and stuck the end in the ashtray. 

Home now, right. And I made my way back out the Korova Milkbar and down the dark shadowy streets to the old home. 

Bog help us.


	2. Chapter 2

Came the stroke of midnight when I reached Flatblock 19a I viddied something like blood on the main doors, fresh still and skorried in, wits about, always wits about. I did not bother with the lift so I skorried up the five flights to 5-8. Em ought to be asleep by now, and I hoped. She used to stay up waiting for me and I told her it was the business at MELODIA keeping me. Yes, the business was getting better better better, I assured her. I couldn’t let her worry. It was the extra hours of work, I told her, that brought in all the pretty polly for her medical bills. But no no no I didn’t mind the work, I told her, and it was true, I suppose. Music was always a passion of mine. And I would rather sit at the counter or arrange those Bogawful popdiscs rather than rabbit in a factory any day. We didn’t only sell popdiscs. When the shop was empty I got to slooshy the latest records. I had taken to this new artist called some name beginning with a G, I reckon, but the name slipped my mind. Not the new pop sensation he was, but I liked it. A malenky bit noisy but the guitar was good. 

I used to have a piano right here, by the corner. But we had to sell it to pay em’s medical bills. Of course, em was worth more to me than like ten pianos, fifty pianos, eighty pianos, well you get the idea. But I do miss playing it a malenky bit sometimes. But I hardly ever had the time now, truth be told. 

I spent most nights now going around the Center having the sly go with my rookers, pickpocketing, that is to say. I didn’t like it much, but rabbiting at the MELODIA didn’t make all that much of the pretty polly, brothers, and the bills don’t pay themselves. 

I took off my platties and got in the bath. Then I lit another cancer and viddied myself proper in the bathroom mirror. I looked a right mess, O my brothers. Dirty blonde hair a mess and dark dark dark shadows around the glazzies. It’s true I had not slept proper in days, O my brothers. More than days I reckon. Ever since em got ill about a right year ago. I was still a young malchick back then just fresh out of school. I worked days and nights to make the polly for the doctor’s bills but it was never enough, never enough. So began my life on the streets at night, O my brothers. The beginning of my lies and thieving and the beginning of my thoughts in the good old nadsat. Real real horrorshow. 

I laughed a little at that. Not that I found it funny, my brothers, but more a scoff than a laugh, at how the tides and turns of life had forced me into my life today, forced me into the grey grey grey. For I did not want it, you see, I had no choice. It was do or die. I cared not for myself but I could not let my dear mum suffer. But it matters not. It matters not. But everyday, with every passing day, I can feel the tides and turns of life trying to pull me in, dragging me into the darker and darker grey. Oh, I have seen many, my brothers, who followed the tide and turn into the darker and darker and into the black. Oh yes. I can only pray that the white within me is still enough, that I will not give in completely and turn black. Bog help us. 

I took another long drag at the cancer and exhaled real slow to let the smoke cloud in front of me, so I could viddy my reflection no more. 

The next morning I woke up at five to the eight oh oh and oh no I was going to be late late late. I pulled on my platties real skorry and gave em, still in sleepland, a kiss on the cheek and skorried out. 

I had to run to catch the autobus and hopped on just in right time, thank Bog above. I righted my jacket and touched the beads on my neck not thinking just catching my breath. O my brothers. 

The morning passed by real slow and like normal, the odd malchick or ptitsa skipping skolliwol to come and browse the discs. And I was getting right hungry, my brothers, my last meal being last night’s dinner. 

And just when I thought I could close up for the old midday meal this malchick came in through the doors, bells a jangling. And I waited as he browsed the discs, tapping my noga on the floor. I just wanted him to go about his business real skorry, my brothers, so I could go and eat. 

Finally he came up to the counter with three discs, one being the new Jones disc. 

“Jones, eh?” I said. 

“Yeah.” Came this like high, soft goloss. I looked up and viddied him proper now, brothers, and he looked to be a malchick of like my age or even just a malenky bit younger. He had on a pair of round otchkies and his face was real pretty with a small soft pink rot and I realised I had been viddying him a minoota too long, my brothers, so my litso got like hot and I checked out his records real skorry. 

“I like the Jones,” I said. By Bog, I sounded real awful and stupid. 

“Oh yeah, me too.” And this malchick smiled a little at that and I could feel something like I was sick in the guttiwuts but not in an all bad way and my gulliver was spinning a little. 

“Are you alright?” He asked. Oh no. Stop it, Damon, stop stop stop. 

“Oh? Oh yeah yeah,” I answered and my litso got like real hot again and I knew he could viddy it clear and proper. “Just haven’t had anything to eat all day.”

“Oh. You should get something to eat, I was just going to get some food around the corner. Maybe you would like to, er…” He seemed to look away a bit embarrassed and all at that. 

“Yeah, great idea.” I said, “Let me just close up real quick.”

And we went, my brothers, me and this pretty malchick, to the cafe mesto on the corner opposite MELODIA. We both had the sandwiches, and a pot of hot milky sugary chai between us. The malchick said his name was Graham, which rang a like bell jingaling in my gulliver, brothers, but I could not recall where I had viddied or slooshied the name. 

And we got around to talking a little about this and that, but it was mostly about music we got around to talking about. 

“... I mean I definitely preferred their new record to their last one.” And he stopped, this Graham, and viddied me closely as if expecting something. And I realised, with like horror, O my brothers, that I had not slooshied a single word he had been saying, so busy I was staring at his litso with the soft pink rot and warm brown glazzies. 

“Oh yeah? Yeah, I totally agree,” I said. What is up with you, Damon? Wits about, always wits about. 

And Graham smiled a little at my answer, and there it was again, my brothers, the feeling of sick but not in an all bad way, what they call the butterflies in your guttiwut or some cal like that. 

I knew not how to continue the conversation now, me being distracted the entire time, and I cursed myself for that. 

“So erm, what do you do for a living?” I asked him. 

“I work at the art galleria.” 

“Ah, a man of culture, I see.”

Graham laughed real proper at that, my brothers, and it was a beautiful sound I wanted to slooshy all day. The butterflies flew a little lot higher now and I prayed prayed prayed to Bog that he wouldn’t notice. The time just flew by real skorry and all too soon we both had to get back to work. 

“It was nice meeting you. Damon,” he said as we were about to part ways in front of the cafe like mesto. 

“You too. I’ll see you around then, eh?” And I meant it, O my brothers. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you around.” And he smiled again. It was like, like the sun, I suppose. But not the sun in midday like now when it was scorching and burning your glazzies in. No, it was like the sun in the evening, I reckon, all warm and like pretty and colourful. 

That night, I was back in the old bed thinking about that malchick I had just met. Graham… The name right suited him, I thought. And it was like I had gone mad, brothers, mad mad mad. I haven’t felt this way since I was a malenky malchick of like fifteen. And it scared me a little. I’ll see you around… 

And I would see him around, not more than a week after that day, in fact, but in far far far different circumstances...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, thank you so much for the kudos and kind comments, they really mean a lot to me. I will try to update a few times a week. Stay tuned :)

Twas nightfall of midweek when I again made my way real skorry to the Korova Milkbar, hat down scarf up. 

I greeted Dave, the ginger barman, on my way in. 

“Hey, brother,” he said. 

“Hey, Dave. I’ll have the old moloko,” then I thought for a malenky bit, “With knives,” I added. The Korova Milkbar didn’t sell alcohol, but they had the old moloko plus, milk that is, with the stuff in it that took you to the deep dive or the mountains or the outer space. I’d tried that a couple times. The old moloko with knives, however, was something different. It sharpened your senses, like a knife I reckon, hence the name. And I needed my wits about, O my brothers, always wits about, for I was meeting none other than gentleman Alex, the very same, O my brothers. 

I took the old milk with knives and headed to the very same cubicle at the back of the mesto. I was early, so I got out the old cancers and lighted. 

Wits about, always wits about, I reminded myself. O my brothers. I knew I was going to need them the moment I had viddied the envelope on the floor of MELODIA just this morning. A letter from Alex, in his usual flowy script, slid under the door, asking me to whatever business it was he was up to. I had received letters like these times before. It was usually a job involving the sly rookers, trinkets here and there from starry old vecks and baboochkas, Bog knew what he wanted all that cal for. But I never cared or questioned, that was the rule, my brothers. I delivered the goods and he delivered the polly. Real simple. Sometimes it was documents, and that involved me breaking into houses many a time. Not an honest job and I knew that, but what was I to do? Like I said, I needed the cutter and Alex would have some other malchick do it anyway, best be me, O my brothers. 

Now Alex and me, a malenky bit of history. I could viddy it clear as yesterday, my brothers, when I had made the misjudgement of sticking my sly rookers in his trouser carmans. I thought he was a lewdy, I did, and Alex never dressed the way those in the gangs did. He was always in the heighth of gentlemanly fashion, he was. And I was younger and more naive back then, brothers, me just having started going about the business of the like sly rookers. And Alex, being Alex, saw through me immediately and knew what I was doing. Now that I think back, my brothers, Alex could have dealt me far more unkindly than he did. He paid me well, yes, but in the end I was his pawn, and I knew that and he knew that and we both knew each other knew that. But like I said, Alex had his connections. And if he wanted to get one of his droogs to give me the old twenty-to-one and off me, he could’ve. 

The way I saw it, Alex was playing his own little game, and he was winning. By having his droogs do all the dirty work for him he kept his own two rookers clean and he held all the power, yes, with the threat of turning us in to the millicents. O my brothers. So his pawn I was, and his pawn I would be as long as I was paid the pretty polly. Not that I could stop, no. I was damned to be his pawn for life, that I reckoned. 

The gentleman himself arrived. “Looking sharp, brother,” Alex said, lips curled up in a smirk. He had a cancer in the one rooker and what I viddied was the old moloko plus, my brothers, judging from the bluish hue, in the other. 

“Thou more so I reckon, brother,” I said. 

“Let’s waste no time, shall we?” Alex said slowly, as if he had all the time in the world to waste, and slid me a slip of paper across the table. There was an address on it. 

“I need this book,” he began, “From this address. Here.” He gave me a picture of the supposed book I was supposed to get. 

The book in question was bound in a like red leather with words in gold embossed on the cover. ‘A Universal Clockwork’ by F. Alexander. Right right right. 

Alex could viddy me viddying the photo closely. “What’s it going to be then, eh?”

“Right,” I said. 

“Cheers.” Alex raised his glass, “To your good health.” 

I nodded and downed my whole glass in one. 

“I’ll be here all night,” he said. “Auto’s in the back.” 

“Right,” I said, “Be back in a bit.” 

I found the auto in the back all right, and she revved up real quiet like humming or purring. Real silent and like stealthy. Real real real horrorshow. 

I took her down the quiet roads among trees to the address Alex had given me. I had never been in this neighbourhood before, and it was like real quiet and secluded. 

I breathed in-out real hard and slow. Wits about, Damon, always wits about. I touched the beads around my neck thrice, for luck. I could feel the knives kick in and it was like I could viddy all around me a malenky bit clearer in the dark. I got out of the auto and made my way through the streets, staying in the shadows. I finally reached the address, and it was a malenky cottage with the word HOME outside it on the gate. I skorried around to the back of the house to find a window I could enter through. There was one, and not even locked, my brothers. I climbed in and I reckon I was in the vaysay, for I could feel something like a sink in the dark. 

I cracked open the door just a malenky bit, and I could slooshy the voices of a like rather starry veck and a devotchka and light coming from another room. I took out my britva, Alex had gifted it to me, no less, O my brothers, as I slipped out of the vaysay and into the adjacent room as quiet as possible. 

I flicked on my tiny lamp I always kept in my carman, and I just about could not believe my luck, brothers, for I had just stepped into a like biblio room. With shelves running along all the walls and there, right in front of me on the table, the red leather bound book with words in gold. 

I slipped the book into the pack slung around my plott. And I was just about thinking, that this job was far far far too easy, O my brothers, when I could slooshy footsteps coming from the other room. There was no place to hide, so I stood by the door and waited. 

The like rather starry veck came into the room and I could just about slip out when he saw me, brothers, and opened his rot to creech. I tolchocked him in the gulliver, hard, and he came down on the floor. 

Then naturally, the devotchka came running into the room. 

“Don’t move.” I ordered. And I reckon she could viddy the glint of my britva from the light of the other room, for she didn’t come any closer. 

“Pl- please don’t...,” she began. 

“I won’t,” I cut in, “If you keep your rot shut. I’ll be on my merry way now.” I flicked my britva in the general direction of the front of the house. “Now, open the front door.”

I followed her into the living room where she opened the front door for me, rookers a like trembling. 

“You slooshy real careful now,” I said, pointing my britva at her once again. She made a sound like a terrified animal. 

“Do not,” I said, “Phone the police. You hear?” 

She nodded real fast. 

“Good,” I said, and I took off real skorry toward the auto. For what, my brothers, could I do if she was to phone the millicents? Or even just to creech out to the neighbours, for that matter. Best I could hope was that she was too scared to do so, and skorry off real quick before she came to her senses. 

I got in the auto, revved up and took off. Fast as I could back to the Center, back into the shadows of the Korova Milkbar. 

I set the book down on the table. Alex, by the looks of him, was still somewhere in the outer space. But he still managed to govoreet out, 

“Faster than I expected.” And that was true, though I could’ve been all the lot faster if that veck hadn’t come in at the wrong moment. But it was just a little past midnight and it mattered not, the job was done. 

“Real horrowshow, Damon, real real horrorshow,” Alex said, viddying the book. Though I doubt he could have viddied the difference if I had placed a rock in front of him. It mattered not. 

“Here,” he said, “As promised.” And it was a fat stack of pretty polly, O my brothers, and I could feel it weigh down my trouser carman.

“Sit down with me a moment, brother,” he said. And I thought to myself honestly that I would rather call it a day and head home but I obliged anyway. 

“Cancer?” I accepted and he lit. And it was just me and old Alex, cancers in rookers and I just viddied him for I had nothing to say.

“You remember that old notchy when we first met, brother?” He began, “A tenth of a decade ago it was, that night. Don’t the times just fly. What’s it going to be then, eh?” He laughed a malenky bit at that. 

“And viddy yourself, still as charming as you was that notchy, eh?” I humoured him. 

He laughed again at that, and continued, “I always found you interessoval, brother. And I thought it was rather funny you should itty on the streets at this age, you being not so malenky anymore. This was the business of the young malchicks, this was. But then you were never like them. Never had your rooker in the ultra-violence, eh?” 

“Thou art not so malenky thyself either, brother,” I replied. 

“Touche, touche. But the old habits die hard, or say they say, I reckon.” He paused for a bit to take a drag at his cancer. “But then I slooshied that you were doing this for your old em, eh? Right lucky she is, to have a son as right horrowshow as thyself, eh?” 

“I suppose.” 

We viddied each other in silence for a malenky bit before Alex opened his rot again, “Right right right. I mustn’t be keeping you all notchy now, must I? Not with your old em waiting for you, eh?”

“Right.” I got up to leave. “Take care, brother.” And I meant it. As much as I was his pawn, and I knew it and he knew it and we both knew each other knew it, I suppose Alex was not all too bad of a malchick himself. And as much as I was his pawn, and I knew it and he knew it and we both knew each other knew it, I think deep down, I still cared for my brother, in my own way, and he still cared for me, in his own way.


	4. Chapter 4

I woke up at thirty to the nine oh oh on Sabbath morning, this being my off day. Usually I worked Sabbaths too but Andy, the starry veck who owned MELODIA, my boss, told me to take the day off. And I haven’t had a day off in about two months now, O my brothers. But the shadows under my glazzies were getting a malenky bit too dark, I reckon, and Andy could viddy them real clear and proper. 

I would have liked to remain in sleepland a malenky bit longer, but em had an appointment with the old A.J.Pittsbury, her physician. 

I cooked up the old morning meal of toast kleb and boiled eggiweg with sweet milky hot chai for em and me. 

“Damon dear,” she said slowly, as if carefully picking her slovos. “You look really tired.” 

And I knew why she was careful to govoreet something like that, my brothers, for she knew I was working late to pay the bills. And I reckon she blamed herself and her bad health for that. 

“I’m fine, mum,” I replied. “I haven’t been sleeping well, is all.” 

“I’m sorry, dear,” she began. “if only-“ 

“No,” I cut her off. I hated it whenever em began all that. “It’s not your fault. Just take care of yourself, don’t worry about me.” 

And she nodded at that, and we finished our meal in silence, for neither of us knew what more to say. 

At the nine oh oh came old A.J.Pittsbury, and he was a real real starry veck, with real thick otchkies on his nose. He did the usual routine, prodding em here and there with the old stetho, and checking her pulse, all that. 

“How are you feeling lately?” He asked. 

“Much better than last month,” em said. 

“Right right. You are reacting well to the new medicine I see. Continue taking it as normal, and I shall come to see you again next month.” 

“Thank you, doctor,” I said, as I led old Pittsbury out of the house. 

“You look tired, dear boy,” he told me. “It must not be easy for you, eh?” 

I found it a malenky bit funny, my brothers, for he knew that I was working hard to pay his bills, no less. But then again, we all had our jobs to do and our bills to pay. It was just the cycle of life, I reckon. Just the cycle of life. 

“Just the cycle of life, I reckon,” I replied. 

He nodded a little at that. “You take care now, dear boy, of your poor old mum and yourself.” 

“Thank you, doctor. Same to you.”

That afternoon I took em out to the park, for a bit of fresh air, and we had sandwiches and watched the pigeons, me tossing some of the crumbs at them. That night after dinner we viddied what was on the telly for a bit. It was a like love story where this ptitsa and this malchick fell in love, though their families would not have it, but then in the end they ran away and got to live happily forever and ever, that sort of cal. Em seemed to like it and even cried a little bit, I reckon. I thought it was a malenky bit stupid but I couldn’t help but think of that malchick, by the name of Graham, whom I had met just a week ago at MELODIA. I thought for a bit if we were to live happily forever and ever. 

For Bog’s sakes, Damon. 

I was getting like sappy and all that. I barely knew that malchick, and he barely knew me. And it was real stupid that I was falling head over heels or heals over head or some cal like that, for a malchick that I had just met. I was acting exactly like that malchick in that telly show. 

And what about happily forever and ever, eh? That sort of cal didn’t happen in real life. I was getting mad, I was. 

After tucking em into bed and kissing her on the cheek, I thought I fancied a drink at the Duke of New York, so I went. 

The mesto was filled with mostly starry baboochkas, instead of the malchicks that frequented the Korova Milkbar. I got a drink and sat in the corner of the mesto by myself, daydreaming or rather nightdreaming now. And every time that soft litso with the warm brown glazzies and soft pink rot popped up in my mind. I wanted to slooshy his soft goloss again, and run my fingers through his hair. Oh Graham Graham Graham. 

I was in love, I reckoned. O my brothers. But then I thought real clear and proper now. How could he feel the same? How could he love me, my brothers, after all the things that I had done? Yes, I did it because I had to but even I was ashamed to admit. I put my nogas in his and I reckon, brothers, that if I were him I wouldn’t love me either. 

Love me? I was getting way way way ahead of myself, brothers. I didn’t even know if he liked me, let alone love me. And did I really know I loved him, for that matter? This hotness of my litso and spinning of my gulliver and this feeling of sick but not in a bad way and all them butterflies, this wasn’t love, this. It was a skolliwol malchick’s crush, that’s what it was. 

But I couldn’t stop thinking about him, O my brothers. It was a right madness taking over me, and I reckon I should have got old Pittsbury this morn to give me the old checkup too. 

I got another drink, and another, and another, it was like I was trying to forget those warm brown glazzies and soft pink rot, it was. And another, and another, and another. By the time I was done, my brothers, my gulliver was spinning real proper and the floor was the ceiling and the ceiling was the floor. 

I stumbled out of the Duke of New York and almost fell and I was feeling sick sick sick. By Bog, I should not have drunk so much. Damn it, Damon. Oh oh oh my brothers. 

I had made it about three steps from the Duke of New York, rookers on the wall to support me. But then I could slooshy the sounds of like tolchocking and creeching just around the corner. And I was mighty drunk, my brothers, but I still had a malenky bit of sense in me to keep to the shadows. 

And I could viddy this like malchick like getting tolchocked by one of the gangs. I thought I recognised Billyboy and his droogs, I reckon. They were right nasty, they were, and I never dared to cross them. Not that I had ever crossed any of the gangs, except that one time, but that was a different story. 

This malchick was creeching at the top of his lungs but it wasn’t loud, for he had not much of breath left. And I thought I viddied in the light of the street lamp dark hair and a pair of broken otchkies. Malchick looked a malenky bit like Graham, I thought, and I thought it was because his litso had been on my mind all night, my brothers. 

“Please, stop-“ he creeched out, and I thought that goloss was all too familiar. And I tried to viddy properly this time, though it was like my glazzies had been blurred out, and I cursed myself again for drinking so much. 

I slapped myself in the litso and viddied real and proper this time. And with like horror I realised that it really was the malchick Graham. 

O my brothers. 

I could feel the like sick rising in my guttiwuts and my heart like hammering faster and my glazzies got a malenky bit clearer. I stumbled forward. 

“Hey you! Stop it!” I used the bravest goloss I could muster, trying my best not to slur my slovos but I knew they could viddy real clear that I was very very very drunk. 

Billyboy and his droogs halted a minoota to viddy me, and I could tell he like recognised me a malenky bit, for he didn’t advance on me right away. 

“You stay out of this, or we’ll tolchock you real proper and horrorshow like this malchick here,” he said. 

“I said let him go!” And I charged at them but they were on me real fast. Billyboy himself dealt me a tolchock in the guttiwuts and it was like all the wind had been knocked out of me, brothers, and my gulliver spun real real real fast. 

“Stop stop stop!” Graham was creeching away but they didn’t stop. And they were tolchocking me and him left and right and up and down. 

“Don’t… hurt… him…” I said, but my slovos was all like slurred and breathless with krovvy running down my rot. 

And just when I thought another tolchock would black me out real and proper this time, I viddied someone coming round the corner from the Duke of New York. And I didn’t know how it was possible that I could viddy him in my state, my brothers, but I did. And there he was, gentleman Alex. 

“Alex!” I creeched. And Billyboy and his droogs halted to viddy him as well. And Alex halted too. His glazzies met mine in the dark and I could viddy him like think for a moment, then he turned slowly to Billyboy and his droogs. 

“I think that’s enough, brothers,” he said, real low and soft. But Billyboy and his droogs slooshied him and dealt us one last tolchock each and took off, and so did Alex himself, leaving me and Graham alone in the dark. 

And I had to like peel myself off the floor, O my brothers. And when I got up it was like the ground was the sky and the sky was the ground, and I was viddying like stars all around me, so I sicked up all over the ground. 

And I was just there on my knees heaving and heaving, brothers, until it was like I was all empty and I like totally forgot who I was and the fact that I was not alone. 

“Hey,,,” Came the goloss weakly, and I remembered and I could viddy Graham beside me, too on the ground. 

And he looked real real real horrowshow, my brothers, and this time in the literal literal literal sense of the word. His soft pink rot was now all cut up and stained red with his own krovvy and his otchkies were all cracked but still hanging on and one of his warm brown glazzies was swollen up and there were like tears in both of them. 

I spat and wiped at my own rot with my rooker, it coming away stained with krovvy and sick. I had to use my rookers but this time I managed to stand up. When I was a malenky bit steadier I extended my rooker to help Graham up as well. 

He was having trouble, body hunched over with all the wind knocked out. He had been tolchocked real proper, he had. I swayed as well and again cursed myself for being so drunk. I put his arm over my shoulder and put my arm over his shoulder. 

“Where do you live?” 

“Flatblock 6c,” he breathed. That was not so far from here, it was nearer than my place. And I wouldn’t want em to wake up and see me in this right sorry state either so I said, 

“I’ll take you to your place, it’s nearer than mine.” 

He bobbed his gulliver a little and so we went, arms over each other and swaying a little. And I couldn’t help but think, how lovely it would be if we were not in this sorry state, but I shook my gulliver to get the thought out, now was not the time. 

We made it all the way to Flatblock 6a, thank Bog above. And thank Bog again, when I found that he lived on the second floor. Even going up two floors was enough of a struggle as it was, and when we reached his place Graham had a hard time opening the door, for his rookers were trembling so much. 

It seemed that Graham lived alone, for no one came to the door when we entered, and we were definitely not all quiet, O my brothers. 

We made it into the vaysay, and I had to like half carry him into the tub. I helped him out of his platties, and he seemed to go a little red in the litso at that, but he didn’t object. His shirt was stuck to him with half dried krovvy, my brothers, and that was a bit of trouble. 

When we got to his trousers, I paused a little. I knew he was in no fit state to help himself and he knew too, poor malchick looked like he was about to pass out cold right there and then in the tub. And truth be told, my brothers, I had no idea how I myself was still standing on my own two nogas. Maybe it was the sight of Graham hurt that had right slapped me sober, or maybe it was all that heaving back in the dark alley, but my gulliver was much much clearer now. And I was all too aware about the fact that I had just like rescued this malchick that I fancied, and we were in his home and I was looking down at him half nagoy in the bath tub. 

“Erm,” I began, “Is it okay if…” Okay if what? I take your trousers off? But I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable and honestly he had all the right to feel uncomfortable, and I pushed back some of the nasty ideas brewing in the back of my gulliver, like disgusted at myself. 

But he just nodded, and I helped him out of his trousers, leaving him with his undies, and drew the bath. The bath water became all reddish brown real fast with all the krovvy, and I grabbed a wash cloth by the sink to help him clean the cuts on his face. 

I dabbed at the cuts slowly, while I tried my best not to stare too hard at his litso. It was hard, O my brothers, even in his sorry state, he was oh so beautiful. 

“You’re drunk,” he said. It took me a bit by surprise. And I found it right funny, brothers, that after all that, this should be the first thing he said. But I was alike taken by a feeling of something like shame. 

I laughed a little, then stopped, suddenly aware that I was breathing the scent of like alcohol and sick into his litso. And I reckon me suddenly laughing was further proving the point that was far more drunk than I should be. 

“Ah yeah. Sorry,” I said. I was getting hot all over now. I didn’t want him to see me in this kind of state. O my brothers. 

But to my surprise, he started to laugh too. It was weaker and more raspy than the usual soft, high one but oh in sounded like angels singing to my ears. 

And then I was laughing again, and we were both just laughing and laughing until there was no more wind in us again and I was a malenky bit worried that we were both going mad. But it mattered not. I was already mad mad mad for this malchick in front of me that I had now met but twice. 

“Now my turn,” he said, after I had finished cleaning up his litso. He rinsed the wash cloth under the tap and proceeded to clean my litso. Me sitting with my nogas crossed by the side of the tub and him leaning over the side to dab at the corner of my rot. 

And whenever his rooker accidentally brushed against my litso it felt like fire. O my brothers. It was like fire that burned down the rest of my plott, till I was all in flames. 

And I was right mad, O my brothers, with the next thing I did. It was like having a moloko plus that took you to the deep dive or to the mountains or to the outer space, but like multiplied by ten, and I was right out of my mind in the far far far out, my brothers, when I pressed my lips onto Graham’s. 

And I could feel him like go stiff for a bit and it was like horror, but then he was pressing back, hard. But his lips, oh his lips were so so so soft as he parted them. And I pressed harder, my mouth open and his mouth open, and I was going far far far aways, beyond the outer space, to like bliss and heaven. And the butterflies were flying higher and higher, and I could feel them in my throat and threatening to burst out of me. It was like I wanted to laugh and cry all at once. O my brothers. 

I didn’t want it to stop but we were both running out of breath and we pulled back. And I could viddy Graham with like stars in his, though one was still swollen, glazzies and then I tasted the bitter tartness of like beer on my tongue. 

Then I realised, O my brothers, that he was drunk too. 

“You’re drunk,” I said.

And he giggled. And oh oh oh the sound it. It drove me mad. I wanted to just do my gulliver in and by Bog I could have just died right there and then by the side of the tub. 

“Come on,” I said softly, and carried him under his arms with my rookers like carrying a malenky baby. 

I helped him into fresh platties and into bed and I myself got changed into a fresh pair of his, alone in the vaysay. I wanted kiss him, touch him and oh I just wanted to feel his skin against mine so so so badly and much much much more. O my brothers. But it just didn’t sit right with me that I would do all that cal when he was drunk. When we were both drunk. 

And it pained me, O my brothers, that my gulliver was somehow still clear enough to make sense, that I couldn’t just go far out into the outer space and do all the things that I wanted to do with him. But I couldn’t have it on my conscience, O my brothers, not when I had so much on my conscience already. 

But I was worried, my brothers, that when the next morning came when we were both sober, that he wouldn’t love me anymore, wouldn’t laugh as easily as he just did, wouldn’t kiss me back as hard as he just did. Not that this was love, and maybe I knew that and maybe that was why I didn’t want to do more, didn’t want to take advantage of him. 

But I wanted to so so so badly. 

And I reminded myself, of the darker and darker grey. To give in would be a like act of the ultra-violence. O my brothers. But it took so much strength to fight the turn and the tide. Bog help us. 

When I came into the bedroom he was already half asleep on the bed. And I wanted so badly to put my fingers through his hair, and I did, it was soft, like everything about him, like bliss and heaven. 

When I got up from where I was sitting on the bed he grabbed my rooker in his. 

“You can sleep here, there’s enough room.” And he shimmied in deeper for me to have space. 

And so I lay beside him. And it was painful, O my brothers, more painful than all the tolchocks that I had received that night, and I realised that I didn’t feel any pain in my plott at all, but I could feel the fire, the heat of him so close beside me. 

“Goodnight, Graham.” 

“Night, Dames.” 

And then I sort of drifted to sleepland, my rooker still in his.


	5. Chapter 5

Next morning I was awoken by the blinding light at about seven oh oh. And by Bog my gulliver felt like it was going to split open with the worst hangover I ever had. And my plott was sore all over. I lifted my shirt a malenky bit and could viddy like dark purple and greenish bruises. And I knew my litso was full of bruises as well, judging from the pain when I put my rooker to my cheek. I couldn’t go to work in this sorry state. 

I stumbled around the house with my glazzies squinted tight against the light trying to find a phone to ring up Andy. I finally found the plastic yellow thing on the table beside the couch. I spun the dial real skorry without viddying and just hoped that I was dialling the right numbers. 

“‘elloww?” Ah, it was old Andy, all right. 

“Hey Andy,” I began, my voice came out in like a rasp that no one could slooshy, not even myself if I hadn’t known what I was saying. I cleared my golso. 

“Hey Andy, I’m real sorry and all but, I don’t think I can make it to work today.” 

“Eh?” 

“Hello?”

“Been out drinking, ‘ave you?” 

“How did you know?” 

“Wasn’t born yesterday, I wasn’t,” Andy grumped. “I gave you a day off and that’s what you got up to.” He gave a like annoyed huff, “Right right, I’ll take your shift.” 

“Oh, you are a right saint, you are,” I croaked. 

“Right right, go back to bed, ya little rascal.” And he hung up on me. 

And now to phone in for Graham. 

I had a Bogawful time trying to read the numbers in the phone book, the numbers being so tiny and like swimming and mixing together and the sixes were like nines and the threes were like eights. 

“Thank Bog above,” I said, as I finally got the number to the art galleria. 

I dialled. “Hello?” 

“The Galleria. How may I help you?” Came this ptitsa’s goloss all proper and real professional. Thank Bog.

“I’m er, I’m phoning in sick for Graham.” 

“Graham?” She asked. 

“No, I’m phoning in sick for him. He’s sick. He can’t come to work today.” 

“Graham?” 

“No, I’m not-“ 

“No, I mean you’re phoning in sick for Graham?” 

“Yeah, I just told you-“ 

“Last name?” And I realised, my brothers, that I didn’t even know Graham’s last name. 

“Graham… oh c’mon, you know,” I said. “Brown hair, brown eyes. Glasses?”

“I’m sorry, you are?” 

By Bog, my headache was throbbing harder with every passing minoota. You would have thought I was speaking the old nadsat to her. 

“I’m Graham’s friend. I’m phoning to tell you he’s sick, and he can’t come to work.” 

“Your name, please?” Bog. I sighed real hard and rubbed at my temples. 

“Damon. Damon Albarn.” 

“Right. I’ll let the director know.” And I hung up on her this time. 

Right right right, two conversations on the phone and I felt like I was all out of it, my brothers, and I stumbled back into the bedroom and passed out on the bed. 

The next time I woke was when I could feel something shifting beside me, and it was Graham, who was trying to get up. 

“Graham…” I groaned. 

“Oh, I’m going to be so late-“ And he was like tugging off the sheets real skorry and stumbling on his nogas. 

“I phoned in for you.” 

“I- what?” He turned to face me. And though not to me, I’ll be honest, my brothers, his face looked real real horrowshow in the literal sense in the daylight. His glazzy was swollen even bigger now and the cuts on his lips and face were all scabbed up and there were bruises all along his jaw. 

“I called your workplace, to tell them you can’t go to work.” 

“Oh…” he paused for a moment. “Oh no no no no, they’re going to be so mad at me. No I have to go.” 

“Graham,” I said more firmly and sat up in the bed. Oh my gulliver. I clutched at it and closed my glazzies again. “You can’t go to work like this, look at you.” I gestured at him. 

He seemed to just remember, and he pulled open his closet door which revealed a mirror behind it. He let out a soft gasp as he viddied his reflection. I viddied myself too, and I had some bruises on the side of my litso and my rot was swollen too, but I didn’t look half as bad as Graham did. 

He closed the closet door and sat back down on the bed beside me, and he like winced a little as he sat. 

“So what now?” He asked. 

I shrugged, my gulliver was thudding like a hammer hammering a nail, and I massaged at it. 

Graham viddied me. “Oh, I have something for that.” And he got a pill and a bottle of water from his bedside table, and I accepted. “I can make us some tea.” 

And after we had the chai and some biscuits straight from the tin, I was feeling much much better. It was like early afternoon now and I went to take a bath then Graham went to take a bath. 

I could still taste the like aftertaste of last night’s alcohol and sick at the back of my golso but I didn’t have a toothbrush, so I rinsed out my rot as many times as I could under the tap.

Then when Graham was in the bath, I sat on his bed and viddied his room proper for the first time. There was his bed facing his closet. And he had some band posters and artwork on the wall, there being the Jones. And when I viddied the artwork closer, my brothers, I could viddy a signature that I reckoned was his. Graham Coxon. 

There was a stereo on the desk beside the closet and a guitar beside the desk. I went to the desk to viddy the stack of discs he had on top. And the second one in the stack caught my eye. It was one that I had just slooshied not too long ago. The one that I said was a malenky bit noisy but the guitar was good. And there, there on the cover was his name, Graham Coxon. No wonder it rang the bells a jangling in my head, O my brothers. 

“This is you?” I asked him, holding up the disc as Graham came in, towel still around his neck. 

And he went a malenky bit red at that. “Oh, yeah.” 

“I heard it.” 

“Oh,” he went even redder at that. “Did… did you like it?”

“Yeah. Yeah yeah. Yeah, I do,” I laughed. 

And Graham seemed to go like a malenky bit shy and all at that. 

“Could you play something for me?” And when the slovos came out, my brothers, I immediately regretted it. It sounded so so so stupid, oh Bog’s sakes. 

Graham blushed even more at that, and he really looked so adorable, he did. 

“It’s fine,” I said, and I like laughed to make the awkwardness like go away. 

“No, I can show you,” he said. 

He took his guitar and sat on the edge of the bed, beside me, and started strumming out some chords. His voice like trembled a malenky bit at first but then he was singing and it was bliss and heaven again, O my brothers. 

He finished and I applauded, him going all red again in the litso. 

“It’s incredible,” I said. 

“Erm, thanks.” And we were just viddying each other a minoota and it was like I couldn’t stop the slovos before they came tumbling and I was saying, 

“Erm, about last night…” 

Bog’s sakes, Damon. 

Graham just shrugged. He viddied me then. “Thank you for saving me.” 

“Oh,” I didn’t know what to say, my brothers. “Oh it was, nothing, it was nothing.” 

“What happened last night wasn’t nothing to me.” And I had to think real hard and proper what he meant this time. O my brothers. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean… I-“ And I was silenced, brothers, by the kiss from Graham this time. And I was right surprised, and all those feelings came back, the hotness and spinning and sickness and butterflies, all that cal. He was soft this time, it was the type like tender and loving, when you weren’t fuelled by like adrenaline and it was like you had all the time in the world. 

Oh, bliss and heaven. 

I kissed him back softly, running my fingers through his soft hair. He laced his fingers through my hair as well and stroked his finger down the nape of my neck. And where he touched me, it sent like sparks and tingles down my spine, O my brothers, and I shivered. 

We broke and kissed again, this time harder, more like desperate and my mouth was wide open and his mouth was wide open and I could taste the taste of the chai and cinnamon biscuits and the like metallic taste of blood from the cuts on his lips I had just reopened. All the while he was stroking my neck and I could feel the callouses on his fingertips, and it was like electricity shocks shooting through me and propelling me into the far far far out. 

And my one rooker was gripping his hair tighter now, while the other was gripping the fabric of his shirt. And as our tongues collided, I was gripping his shirt tighter and tighter, like I was trying to tear the fabric right off his plott. 

And he was getting more earnest now too, tugging hard at my hair while the other rooker went under the fabric of my shirt. And when his fingers touched my stomach the bruises burned, and it was like fire again, O my brothers, the chills going down my spine and the fire burning up my chest all the while electricity coursing through me. 

“Graham, Graham, wait,” I mumbled against his lips. 

“What?” He loosened his grip a bit and I could viddy like worry flash across his litso. 

“I just…” I stopped to catch my breath a little. “I just need to know that you’re okay with, with all this.” I just sort of flapped my rooker up then down. “With what we’re doing.” 

“Oh,” He laughed again, oh I wanted to slooshy that laugh forever. Our faces were close enough together that I could feel his warm breath on my lips. “Well, what do you think?” 

“So that’s a yes, then?” 

“Yes, Dames.” Oh I loved the way he said my name, I wanted him to make a disc of it so I slooshy it every day every night. 

“I want,” I said -another kiss in between- “I want you to make a record...” 

“Of what?” He laughed.

“Of you saying my name over and over again, just you saying my name over and over again.” He was pressing both of us into the bed now, and he made a soft grunt as our bodies came into contact. 

“For forty minutes?”

“For ever,” I replied and I kissed him again. I kissed him slowly slowly slowly this time, my brothers, wanting to feel and taste every millimetre of his soft soft lips. 

And he brought his hand up my chest this time, and my heart was hammering oh so hard at my rib cage, I sure reckoned he could just feel it. Oh oh oh my brothers. But I didn’t mind now. I wanted him to know, how hard my heart beat for him and how fast my krovvy was circulating through my plott. He drove me mad mad mad. 

And up with his hand came my shirt, and I let him, and we broke the kiss just for a minoota so I bring the fabric over my gulliver. It was his hands against my bare back now and it was more more more of that blazing fire. O my brothers. 

I tugged at his shirt harder now, tugged it up his body and over his head, and he let me. And it was both us there half nagoy, and everywhere he touched me, brothers, it was like having the old moloko with knives, but multiplied by ten, no, a hundred, no, a thousand. I could feel his touch real real real on my skin. And the feeling was so great I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Oh oh oh my brothers. 

His hands were coming at the waist of my trousers now, real skorry and like desperate, and I let him. And I returned the favour, and he let me. 

And soon it was all shirts and trousers and undies all on the floor. And we carried on, me in the real far far far out, in bliss and heaven. And what we did next, well, I leave it up to your imagination. 

But I let him lead me. And he was touching me everywhere I wanted to be touched, stroking me from top to bottom and bottom to top, leaving blazing trails all over my plott, O my brothers. It was like he knew exactly what he was doing. And I reckon he knew the effect he was having on me, my brothers, could viddy the wildness in my glazzies that were mirrored in his. 

And he was wild too, wilder than I thought he was, O my brothers. This malchick with the warm brown glazzies and soft pink rot. And he was leaving me gasping for wind. Leaving me, gasping and shivering all over from the fire and chills and electricity. 

It drove me mad mad mad mad mad. Oh, bliss and heaven and bliss and heaven and bliss and heaven. 

And then we were just laying there, catching wind, my hands on his back, and he with one hand stroking my hair and another around my waist, both just laying there in our like sweat. And I could taste the saltiness of it as I planted kiss after kiss on his chest. Sweet and salty, and I wanted to just taste him, taste him till it was the only taste I remembered. 

And he brought his mouth onto my neck, this time using his teeth as well. And I gasped. And I shivered. All all all over. 

And when his tongue was moving along my neck I felt like my gulliver was going to just explode right there and then. 

Oh oh oh my brothers. 

And I moaned into his chest at the feeling of it. 

I continued to plant kisses all over his chest and neck, now using my tongue and teeth and adding more bruises to the collection he already had. 

And he was doing the same to me, O my brothers, and we just went on and on and on till our mouths and jaws were both sore. 

Graham then got a packet of cancers from his beside drawer and we both sat on the floor, still nagoy, leaning against the bed, lit cancers in mouths. We just sat and viddied each other with like longing and contentment at the same time. Graham had a malenky smile on his face, and as he blew out a mouthful of smoke, it like clouded and hazed his already soft features a little, so that he looked all the more dreamy, O my brothers. 

And I reckon there were like stars in my glazzies as I viddied him, brothers. He was like an angel, just like an angel. 

And I had a moment of like panic that this was all a dream, and that when I left sleepland I would wake up to find myself all alone. And I panicked a malenky bit. 

But I was here, and I was watching this malchick Graham beside me breathing the smoke lightly with his soft pink rot. The malchick with the warm brown glazzies and soft pink rot. 

And I pressed my lips to his again, and I could taste the taste of the chai and sweet cinnamon and salty sweat and the metallic blood with the tartness and flavour of the cigarette. And I just let myself be lost in the far far far out. In the glorious taste of Graham. 

That evening we just laid around on his couch, the telly was on but none of us were really viddying it, I knew I wasn’t. My head was in Graham’s lap and he was stroking my hair with one hand while his other hand was in mine. And I was like drawing tiny circles in his palm and feeling the callouses on the tips of his fingers. Bliss and heaven. 

I reached up and ran the back of my rooker against his jaw. Oh he was so so so beautiful. 

I put my rooker on the back of the couch and like hoisted myself up so that I was sitting in his lap and planted a kiss on his jaw real slow. And I like opened and closed my mouth slowly, working my way up up up his jaw with my tongue until my mouth was at his ear. He shivered a malenky bit as i closed my teeth down lightly on his earlobe. 

“Oh, you’re so beautiful,” I whispered into his ear. 

And he turned to face me, brothers, and I could see he too had like stars in his eyes. I brought my hand up to brush the stray hairs away from his eyes and cupped my hand around his cheek. 

And I pulled his face to mine. And we were kissing again, and I marvelled at how our mouths just seemed to fit perfectly in each other’s. And he like moaned into my mouth, a low and dark one, so unlike the high soft goloss of his, and I could feel it too in the back of my own throat. And came the electricity, and I was like turned on all over again. Oh oh oh my brothers. 

I alike made a low noise to echo his, and we were there, me in his lap with my legs tangled around his and my fingers in his hair and his fingers in my hair and our mouths just locked together. And I felt like I could just live in that moment forever. Bliss and heaven.


	6. Chapter 6

Then came nightfall, my brothers, and it was time for me to leave. I didn’t want to. Really didn’t want to. I didn’t want the day to end. How I just longed longed longed to live in that moment forever. 

But I gave Graham one last kiss before I left, me on my tippy toes as he stood on the doorstep, and I took as much of him in as I possibly could. The feel of his soft hair, his high soft goloss and the taste of him. The sweet salty metallic tart flavour of Graham, I wanted to remember that forever. 

“i don’t want you to go,” he said, and he looked like a sad puppy and my guttiwuts twisted a malenky bit. 

“Me neither,” I said, putting my arms around him. “But I’ll see you again tomorrow.” 

“You promise?” 

“Promise.” And I knew not then, O my brothers, that it was a promise I couldn’t keep. 

“Bye, Dames.”

“Bye, Gra.” 

And I viddied him one last time before turning round the corner into the stairwell, and there he was, still standing on the doorstep, watching me leave. 

And I was right distracted, brothers, as I made my way back to Flatblock 19a. The image of his warm brown glazzies and soft pink rot burned into my mind, so that when I closed my glazzies I could just about viddy him right there in front of me. And I sort of like floated back to the old 5-8. 

When I got back home em was there sitting on the couch, reading a book. She got up when I entered the door. 

“Damon dear, you’re back ear- What happened to your face?” She sounded real worried, and I remembered, O my brothers, and brought my rooker up to my litso like instinctively. 

“It’s nothing,” I began. 

“That’s not nothing, come here and let me look at it.” And she fussed over my face like mothers do, slathering a vonny like ointment on my jaw. And I remembered Graham’s rot and teeth moving on my neck and I tugged my jacket up higher so she couldn’t viddy underneath the collar. 

But all the while I had this stupid like grin on my litso at the memory of him and I tried to straighten my expression before em noticed, but it was no use, she could viddy it real clear and proper. 

“Well, someone looks happy.” 

“What?” And I tried to like play it coy and all that but em saw all right through me. 

“Don’t try to act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, I raised you for nineteen years. You think I don’t know what you’re thinking about? Now, who have you been seeing?” She prodded, all the while still fussing over my litso. 

And I couldn’t help it, but I could feel my litso getting like hot, my brothers, and I knew em could viddy that real clear and proper, ‘twas written all over me, so I said, “It’s this person…” 

“A nice girl?” Em asked, smiling a little. 

“Erm…” I hesitated, not really sure how em was going to feel about me fancying a malchick. 

And I reckon em knew what I was thinking, for she took one of my rookers in hers and said, 

“Damon dear, it doesn’t matter to me who you love. I just want you to be happy.”

“Oh,” I said, and I looked up at her. And it was like warm warm relief that flooded through me. And my glazzies felt a malenky bit hot and they were like wet, and I hugged em. And I could viddy her glazzies were wet too. 

And right then, the phone rang, and I went over to pick it up. 

“Evening, brother.” And slooshying that, my brothers, I could feel like stones dropping into my guttiwuts, plop plop plop. It was gentleman Alex, ringing up his pawn. 

And the feeling of tiredness came over me, real heavy like, my brothers. I was so so so tired. And I closed my glazzies for a moment, breathing out hard through my nose.

“Evening.” 

Em was viddying me with like concern on her face, and I was trying real hard not to meet her gaze. 

“I require a favour of you, brother.” 

And this time,my brothers, I govoreeted to Alex something I had never govereeted to him before, “Can it wait?” 

“No,” came his reply immediately. “No, I’m afraid not.” Then he paused, and I said nothing, for I knew not what to say. I was his pawn and I knew it and he knew it and we both knew each other knew it. 

He then continued. “I require this painting that belongs to the director of The Galleria. It’s above the mantelpiece, in his office, first floor, window facing the Korova Milkbar. I need it by tonight, you know where to find me.” 

“Right,” i said. 

“Cheers.” 

And he hung up. I shut my glazzies and exhaled again slowly before making my way to the door. 

“Damon dear…” 

“I’m sorry, mum. I need to go.” 

And em viddied me with worry for a moment before nodding slowly. “Be careful, dear.” 

“I will. Don’t wait up for me.” And I gave her a peck on the cheek and grabbed my hat and scarf and headed out. 

The streets were busy with lewdies, the night being young still, but I left the noise and flurry behind me as I made my way to the alley between the backs of the Korova Milkbar and The Galleria. 

Wits about, Damon, always wits about, I reminded myself as I viddied the brick wall of The Galleria looming above, trying to find a way up. There were several autos and a truck parked in the alleyway. Perfect. I climbed onto the roof of one auto and onto the truck. From the top of the truck, I could just about reach the ledge of the first floor window if I jumped. 

I touched the beads around my neck thrice for luck and made the jump. And I managed to grip on and hoist myself up and through the open window. And as I landed on the floor through the window, I was greeted by an all too familiar goloss. 

“Evening, brother.” 

I froze. And my heart was like hammering and the krovvy was rushing in my ears. 

“Alex?” I murmured, “What in Bog’s name are you doing here?”

”I work here. This is my office.” He said it like it was a matter of the facts, my brothers. And he turned to face me, and I could viddy him by the light from the luna coming through the window. “And you’re here to steal from me. But I’m going to make you pay.” 

And before I could react, brothers, he had taken the two strides between us and grabbed hold of my shirt collar and slammed me against the wall. 

The impact of it knocked the wind out of me and I had to gasp for air. 

“Alex, what the hell-“ But he silenced my slovos by slamming his mouth roughly against mine. 

And the von of his cologne was filling my nostrils, and the scent was sickeningly strong with him being in such close proximity to me. And my mind was racing brothers, with like horror and panic and confusion, and I struggled against him, shaking my gulliver and failing my arms, trying to push him off. 

But he was taller than me, and stronger than me, and soon he had my thighs trapped against the wall with his own. He pinned my right wrist with his left rooker against the wall while his other rooker was at my crotch undoing the fly of my trousers. 

Fear and panic surged through me and I yanked at his hair with my free rooker, but he reacted by grabbing my crotch, hard, and my nogas slid out from under me with the pain. 

His mouth was on mine again and he forced my lips open, and I bit down as hard and fast as I could on his bottom lip, so that I tasted blood, and he withdrew his head quickly, snarling in pain. 

In his moment of weakness, I thrust at him with all my might, my brothers, and he crashed into the table in the centre of the room, upsetting the vase on the table so that it fell to the ground and shattered in the process. But he was still gripping my wrist, so I was pulled along, and I spun and crashed into the table, and I hit the side of my gulliver hard against the wood. 

I was viddying stars around me now, my brothers, but Alex has gotten up and was advancing on me again. I scrambled back on my arms and nogas as fast as I could. 

And then he was on top of me again, and I was pinned to the floor this time. 

“Damn it, Damon…” he growled, but I kneed him in the crotch and spun, and we both spun into the bookshelf by the wall, and the books rained down upon us. 

And he was far too fast, brothers, for now he was pulling me upright roughly by the collar and then his rookers were gripping my golso. I tried to creech out, but I couldn’t make a sound, and I was struggling for wind, trying to pry his fingers off my golso. He loosened one rooker and struck me across the litso, and I was viddying stars again and my gulliver spun real real skorry. 

Then there was like yelling getting louder and louder and this huge crash as a malchick came bursting through the door. 

“Security! Hands up!” He barked. And he had a gun. 

Then, Alex flung me away from him with such force that I was sent flying into this malchick, and in the like blur of my vision I could viddy Alex take off through the window. 

I came crashing down on top of this malchick outside the office with my back on top of him, and the gun went spinning out of his rooker. I was still struggling to catch wind when he pushed me off him and then skorried to retrieve the gun. 

I tackled him and we both crashed into the metal rail that ran around the mezzanine of the gallery. And then he had me in his strong grip, and my back was arched over the low rail, over the drop to the ground floor below. 

And I could slooshy the sound of sirens in the distance now, brothers. And I don’t know how, my brothers, maybe it was the panic that sent another surge of adrenaline through my plott, but I was able to switch positions with this malchick and before I knew it, I was sending him tumbling over the rail and onto the ground floor. 

And I could slooshy the thud of his body and could viddy him hit the floor, my brothers, but then the sirens were creeching louder now and on instinct I ran back through the office and lept out of the window. 

There was a terrible jolt through my nogas as I landed on an auto and then slid onto the rocky ground below. The rocks scraped hard at my rookers but I skorried out of the alley as fast as I could. If the millicents were to corner me here I would have no place to run, O my brothers.

But before I had made it more than ten metres, my arm was yanked from the side and I lost balance and was like half dragged through a doorway. 

“Come on.” The voice was urgent and its owner had pulled me to my feet and I was right shocked to viddy that it was Dave, the barman of the Korova Milkbar. And we were in this narrow stairwell and he was skorrying up the stairs now and I followed him, up and up and up until we reached a like malenky bedroom. 

He locked the door shut behind me and drew all the curtains. And I leaned against the wall, breathing real skorry and hard. Now that I was in no immediate trouble, my mind was racing racing racing, my brothers, trying to process everything that had just happened. 

“I… Alex… you… how… why?” I said between breaths, and my mind was like all jumbled up and like churning all the information together so it was all a senseless mess. Oh Bog help us. 

“I saw what happened from the window,” Dave said, and he was putting a cancer in his rot and lighting it now. 

“Can I have one?” 

He lit another one for me and I inhaled too quickly and choked. I coughed and coughed and Dave just viddied me with a like pitying expression on his litso. 

The sirens in the background reached a maximum now and then just like stopped, and the night was all quiet now, and I sank onto the wooden floor, and Dave just sat on the bed. 

And I viddied at Dave’s bedroom while inhaling slowly, and my breath finally slowed and my heart wasn’t hammering as hard. Dave’s room was simple and plain, just a bed, a closet and a desk with a lamp. Dave could viddy me viddying but just kept quiet. 

“Alex,” I just said simply, as if I was waiting for him to supply the answers to all my questions. 

Dave just viddied me and dragged at his cancer. 

“Why did you help me?” 

“Because,” Dave said, letting out another puff of smoke, “I didn’t want to leave you to the millicents.” 

“Oh.” And I had so many questions, brothers, but I knew not what I actually wanted to ask.

“Alex wanted to…” I began, but I didn’t know how to finish my sentence. And it was dawning on me just what Alex wanted to do to me back there in The Galleria. And I shivered, and quickly pushed the thought of it to the back of my mind. I didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to know. 

And Dave viddied me with that same pitying expression. “I’m sorry about that, Damon.” 

I shook my gulliver. “I just didn’t…” I shook my gulliver again. I didn’t know how to put my thoughts into a like comprehensible slovos, my brothers. Hell, I just didn’t want to think about it at all. 

And Dave just sat there in silence and got started on his next cancer. After a minoota he took a malenky flask and a blanket from his closet. 

“Have this.” He passed me the flask. “And you should spend the night here.” He laid the blanket on the floor for me. 

It was a flask of the old alc, and I downed it in one go. Dave reached over and turned off the lamp as I laid down on the blanket, but he himself didn’t lay down. 

I could viddy the smoke of his cancer curling upwards from the light of the luna filtering through the curtains as he continued to smoke. 

“Dave,” I said. 

He slooshied but didn’t react. 

“Thank you.” 

“Right,” he said. “Goodnight, brother.”


	7. Chapter 7

And I had this dream, but it was more like a nightmare, my brothers, where I was back in Graham’s house, and I was kissing Graham again, and my glazzies were closed and we were kissing just as passionate and desperate as ever. 

But when I opened my glazzies, I realised with like horror that it wasn’t Graham, it was Alex. And I was running all over the house looking for Graham but I couldn’t find him, and the phone was ringing, and Alex was grabbing my wrists not letting me answer the phone. 

But I was certain that it was Graham who was ringing, and I kept struggling and struggling and struggling and I tried to creech at Alex to let me answer the damned phone, but no sound came out of my rot. 

And then there was banging on the door now, and I was certain that it was Graham banging on the door. And I was struggling to reach the door, but Alex kept pulling me away, and I tried to kick at Alex but I had no strength in my nogas and all the while the banging just kept getting louder and louder. And I was so certain that it was Graham, but I couldn’t reach the door and the banging just wouldn’t stop. 

Bang bang bang bang BANG!

And my glazzies flew open, and it took me a second to remember where I was, and I realised, with like horror, that the door to Dave’s bedroom had been busted open, and there were three millicents standing in the doorway. 

Dave was already upright in the bed and the lamp was on, and two of the millicents grabbed me by the arms. 

“Damon Albarn?” The third one asked, him seeming to be the one in command here. 

I didn’t answer, so he tolchocked me in the litso, though not too hard, and stuck his rooker into my trouser carman and grabbed my wallet. He extracted my identification and viddied at it. He then viddied at me. 

“You are under arrest for breaking in and attacking a man.” 

“Where’s your proof?” said Dave, in a low dark goloss that was like threatening, that even I was a malenky bit frightened, O my brothers. 

“Are you challenging me?” The officer said. “And you, you are under arrest, for being his accomplice.” And he stuck a finger at me. 

The two millicents grabbing my arms cuffed me, then proceeded to cuff Dave. 

“He didn’t do anything,” I cried, “It was just me-“

“So you admit to your crimes, eh?” The commanding millicent said. 

“Just let him go-“

“Whether he is guilty or not,” he cut me off, “That is up for the court to decide.” 

And we were both forced down the stairwell and into the millicent autos, them delivering us kicks and tolchocks in the backs as they pleased. I was shoved into one auto with the commanding millicent in the passenger seat and the millicent grabbing me sitting beside me, and Dave was in the other auto. 

And we were whisked off to the Staja, the state jail that is, and all the while there was this sick feeling and churning in my guttiwuts. 

And then when we got to the Staja they confiscated my wallet and britva and tiny lamp that were in my trouser carmans, and I was shoved into a room where there was another officer and this other veck who had a typewriter in front of him. 

The millicent holding me forced me into the chair in front of them, and then I was questioned. And I knew that I didn’t have a choice but to answer honestly now, my brothers, so I did. 

But I left out the part about Alex. It was like a malenky voice in the back of my gulliver telling me not to mention about him, he was too powerful, the voice said, too well connected, and I reckoned he knew far far far too much about me. 

He knew where I lived and about em and her condition. He had eyes and ears everywhere, the fact that I was caught this night was proof of it, I was certain. And it was that sickening feeling again. And all in the end, I was his pawn, and I knew it and he knew it and we both knew each other knew it. O my brothers. 

And so the story they had was that I had tried to break in and steal a painting, and I was discovered and then I attacked that security malchick. 

And it felt like I was being questioned for hours and hours, though it couldn’t have been all that long. And I was right exhausted when I was finally hauled through the hallways and thrown into a cell. And it reeked of the von of like sweat that had gone all sour, and of piss and of sick and it was so strong that I felt like I was going to sick up myself, O my brothers. 

I could slooshy the sounds of like breathing but it was dark in the cell with only a small red light on the landing, so I curled up in the corner on the floor and then just sort of drifted into extremely restless sleep. 

It was as though I was skorrying in and out of a room, in and out of sleepland, and I was waking up like every five minutes from the sounds of the people stirring around me and the dreams and the terrible terrible aches all over my plott. I could feel the cold like seeping into my bones and my limbs were aching so badly that I wanted to just tear them all off. 

When the aches were finally wearing off and I was finally drifting deeper into sleepland, the fluorescent lights came on in the cell, like blinding. Bloody hell. 

I tugged my jacket over my litso trying to like shield my glazzies from the blinding light and just remained curled up in my corner. 

And a few minootas had passed, my brothers, when I felt a kick against my nogas. It wasn’t hard, more like trying to get my attention. 

And I looked up, at this big big bloke with a like huge beard and bald gulliver and a large scar on his face. He was way bigger than me, towering over me there curled up in the corner, and there were two other blokes viddying me as well over his shoulders. One being a tall and thin older veck and the other was a malchick that looked not that much older than myself. 

“Hey you, prettyboy,” the big big bloke said. 

And I just looked up at him, and I reckon I was a right pathetic sight, I just wanted to curl up further in my corner and disappear. 

“When you got here?”

“Last night,” I said, and my goloss cracked. I cleared my golso and repeated, “I got here last night.”

“Aw, c’mon Big D, you’re scaring em.” It was the malchick that spoke up this time. “Prettyboy eh, aren’t you?” He said to me. 

“Jay,” he said, and I reckon he was introducing himself, for he nodded at the big bloke and said, “That’s Big D and that there is Beaver.” He nodded at the older veck. 

I just nodded. 

“What you here for?” 

And before I could answer, the door to our cell swung open and one of the rozzes pointed at me. 

“You. Out. Now.”

And I got up and the rozz came and grabbed my arm roughly. 

“Time to get ready for your trial.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters may seem a bit filler, I apologise, but there will be more action in the later chapters. I already have the entire story outlined but I just don't have enough time to write. Thank you for sticking with the story so far!

Part Two

And I was hauled through the hallways again, my brothers, past cell after cell after cell, then I was shoved into a vaysay. 

“Now get your sorry ass cleaned up,” the rozz said as he shoved me in. And I couldn’t hold it in anymore, my brothers, at the strong von of sweat and excrement of the vaysay, and I sicked up into the toilet. 

But my guttiwuts were well empty, so I was only heaving up the bitter bile and spit from my rot and nose. And I retched and retched and retched, there on my knees on the floor of the vaysay, like waves surging all the way up from my gut to my gulliver, gripping the rim of the toilet. 

And when the waves finally stopped, I felt like I was going to pass out for real this time. I was trembling all over, like numb, my litso dripping with snot and sweat and tears from my watering glazzies.

And a pair of rookers gripped me under the armpits and lifted me, my nogas dragging on the floor, to lean my back against the wall. 

I looked up and it was Dave, though my vision was swimming and his litso was like going in and out of focus. The two rozzes were viddying us with like disgust and impatience from the door of the vaysay. 

Dave removed my jacket and then used it to like fan at my litso, until my vision began to clear a malenky bit. 

I tried to get up with the support of the wall and Dave’s help. And I managed to get to the sink and stuck my litso under the icy water. I gasped at how cold it was but it seemed to clear my gulliver. Oh Bog help us. 

The next events all passed by in a like blur and haze to me. I was in this courtroom full of people all dressed in robes, in the heighth of court fashion I reckon, and they govoreeted on and on and on for hours and hours and their slovos meant nothing to me, brothers, while I stood there on my trembling nogas trying my best to remain upright. 

And then the judge’s mallet came down with a bang and I slooshied my sentence. 

Two years in the Staja. 

O my brothers. 

And Dave’s trial was after mine, and later on I came to know that he was charged as my accomplice, and he was to spend six months in the Staja. 

And I was led out of the courtroom, and forced to trade in my platties for this one-piece suit with a number stitched on, though I managed to hide my bead necklace that em had made me in my shoe. 

And from that day on, my brothers, I was no longer Damon Albarn, but 6542001 to the rozzes, and to my fellow inmates I was known as Prettyboy. 

“Enjoy your stay,” the rozz sneered at me as he slammed the cell door in my litso, and I found myself back with the malchick Jay and big bloke Big D and veck Beaver, 

And they looked up at me from where they were sitting on the floor in a like circle in the middle of the cell, with a several malenky piles of pebbles in front of them which I reckoned was some sort of game. 

“Prettyboy’s back,” Jay govoreeted brightly, which was odd, but I reckoned that was just how he was. “Well, sit down,” he said after I had stood there for a minoota, so I sat. 

“So,” Big D viddied at me, and so did the other two, “How long you being here?” 

“Two years,” I replied, and Jay gave a low whistle. 

“What brings you to the Staja then?” Beaver asked. And I knew then why he was called Beaver, for he had rather large front teeth that sort of stuck out even when his rot was shut. 

“I er, broke in to The Galleria and fought the security guard.”

“Sorta like Big D then, eh?” Jay nudged Big D. “Got into a fight with one of the gangs, he did.” 

Big D just grunted. 

“And Beaver here…” 

“Tax evasion,” Beaver supplied. 

“You?” I asked. 

“Smuggling,” Jay said it like it was as normal an everyday activity as like having breakfast, although I could hardly remember when it was the last time I had had breakfast, so much had occurred in the last 48 hours that it felt like a whole lifetime ago. O my brothers. 

And it was that night, as I was laying on the bunk above Beaver, slooshying the heavy breathing of my cellmates, that I thought of em. 

Two years I would be stuck in this hellhole, with no one to take care of em. I wondered if she had gotten the news yet and how worried she would be, and my guttiwuts twisted at that. 

And I thought of the malchick Graham, and how I had I promised that I would return to see him tonight, and if he would be waiting for me, and if he would be disappointed that I had failed to keep my promise. But it mattered not, it mattered not, not anymore. When he found out what sort of business I was up to he would be glad to be rid of me. 

“Graham…” I whispered in the dark, and I could taste the sweet salty metallic tart flavour of him on the back of my tongue, could feel the touch of his soft pink lips on mine and the callouses of his fingertips on the back of my neck, could hear his high tinkling laugh and the feeling of my fingers through his soft soft hair, with his warm brown glazzies staring deeply into mine, the stars in them. And he was like the stars now, too high up and too far away for me to reach. 

A lifetime ago already. 

And he would have forgotten me by the time I was out, I reckoned, and I hoped he did. Though it was like I knew everything about him, the way my hand could cup perfectly around his cheek, the way our mouths fitted marvellously around each other’s, the way my body flowed seemlessly into his, and his into mine. 

And yet, it was like I knew nothing about him at all, and he knew nothing about me. And it pained me and was like squeezing hard hard hard at my chest, my brothers, and this fling we had, what I had thought was love, or more like hoped it was, was nothing more than the heat of the moment and we were better off without the memory of it, better off without each other. 

“I’m sorry, Graham…” 

“So so so sorry.”


	9. Chapter 9

Two weeks passed and I was getting used to my new life in the Staja. It was rather routine like where I spent the mornings rabbiting in the workshop making matchboxes, which was the job I was assigned, and spent afternoons ittying round and round and round the compound for like exercise, and sometimes evenings were filled with classes where starry type vecks came to govoreet about things like space and stars and mathematics and all that cal. Sometimes it was interessoval, sometimes it wasn’t. And I met all sorts of types in the workshops and in the exercises, my brothers, some real real horrowshow in the literal sense of the word and some violent and some real perverted types all ready to dribble over younger malchicks like me, and I considered myself very very very lucky that I wasn’t sharing a cell with the likes of those. 

The free evenings we had were spent in our cells, where the four of us would take part in a game we called Batzkritz, which was the game with pebbles where we had to like flick our pebbles into one another’s piles to knock them out, that sort of thing. And my cellmates, Jay and Big D and Beaver, they weren’t really all that bad blokes at all, and I was beginning to grow like fond of them as the days passed, we being sort of companions as we passed the time together in this hellhole. 

On Sundays we had what was called prison religion, where we sang melancholy like hymns and a charlie came and preached from this thick book. Although I never really paid attention, as Jay would usually engage me in a game using our thumbs, where we like held each other’s rookers and wrestled with our thumbs to try to pin the other person’s down. And one time we each received a tolchock on the back of the gulliver from the rozzes when our game got like too intense and they noticed. 

And on my second Sunday there, as we were shuffling out of the chapel back to our cells, I was stopped on my way out. 

“You, 6542001,” the rozz said, “You have a visitor.” 

And I followed him to this like malenky room with a table and two chairs in the centre. And there in one of the chairs was em, and as I ran to embrace her, I could viddy that her eyes were full of tears. 

And she cried even harder as she hugged me. “Oh, Damon dear,” she sobbed. 

I patted her gently on the back of the head as she sobbed into my chest. “Oh oh, Damon.” 

“It’s alright, mum,” I murmured to her. 

“This is all my fault, this,” she cried. 

“Don’t be silly, mum,” I said as I continued to pat her and she just sobbed and sobbed. And my guts were twisting and writhing and it was like knives stabbing into my chest, again and again and again and again. “Please don’t cry anymore…” I hushed at her and she stifled her sobs a malenky bit. 

I let her into the chair slowly and just sat on the floor in front of her, patting her hands lightly. “It’s alright, I’m here, I’m here. I’m alright.” 

She seemed to calm down a little but was still breathing in those like loud shaky breaths, like those when one has been crying for too hard and too long. And the knives went in my chest again and again and again and again.

“Mum, I need you to listen.” She continued to sob, more quietly now but nodded. “Listen, there’s a pouch in the back of my closet where I keep all the money, it should be enough to last a while.” I lowered by voice so the rozz by the door couldn’t slooshy but em cried even harder upon slooshying that, O my brothers. 

“If… if wasn’t because of me-“ 

“Shhhhh…” I patted her rookers faster. “Listen mum, I need you to take of yourself when I’m not around. Can you do that for me?” 

I shook her hands a little. She looked at me, glazzies full of tears that were streaming down her litso, and like swallowed hard and nodded a bit. 

“Promise me. Promise me you’ll take of yourself.” Knives in my chest again and again and again. 

“Please,” I said, and my voice cracked on that final word. 

“Time’s up,” the rozz said. 

“Goodbye, mum.” I embraced em again, and she clung on to me, and I didn’t want to let go of her either, but the rozz said, 

“It’s time, son.” And he said it a malenky bit softer this time, with something like sympathy, I reckoned. 

And I gave em a peck on the cheek and slowly let her go, and let myself be led back to my cell. 

When we got back to my cell the rozz put his hand on my shoulder, and we viddied each other for a moment, and he didn’t say anything but I just nodded, and he closed the cell door. 

“Hey Prettyboy, oh,” Jay stopped his slovos when he had viddied the expression on my litso. 

And I just sat in the corner, trying to act like I was occupied with a button on my suit, trying not to look at them. I didn’t want them to see me cry so I held my glazzies open and tried not to blink, for I was sure if blinked the tears would start falling. 

“Hey hey hey.” Jay came over and sat beside me. “What’s up.” He patted me on the shoulder. Big D and Beaver were viddying me closely from their respective bunks, though none of them said anything. 

I just shook my gulliver, for I knew that the moment I opened my rot my voice would crack and i would start crying for real, for real. 

“Just leave him be, Jay.” Beaver said, thankfully. And Jay viddied me again before climbing onto his bunk above Big D, and they all just lay around in their own bunks while I tried not to make any eye contact with them. Though I noticed from the corners of my vision them viddying me every once in a while. 

I ran my fingers over the beads that were now back on my neck, hidden under the collar of my suit. The knives continued to come at my chest, again and again and again and my chest was hurting badly. 

That evening I continued to avoid any eye contact at all with them as we sat together in the mess hall during our dinner of stale bread and cheese and chai that was more like water really, though I sat a malenky bit further from them this evening. 

Dave came over and sat across from me. “Hey, brother,” he began. 

“Psssst, Ginger,” Jay hissed at Dave and shook his gulliver, though i could slooshy him very very clearly and see him shaking his gulliver at Dave in my peripheral vision. Though Dave took the hint and didn’t govoreet anything more. 

That evening I climbed into my bunk the moment we got back to our cell, while the three started a game of Batzkritz, though their slovos during the game was far more subdued tonight.

And I just lay in my bunk with my glazzies open staring at the ceiling until the lights were turned off and I could hear their steady breathing as they drifted in sleepland. And then I closed my glazzies and the tears came, and I tried to stop them but I couldn’t help it, and I pressed my rookers to my rot to keep from sobbing out loud. By Bog, I was so so so pathetic. 

And I dabbed at my glazzies furiously with my sleeves, while the knives came again and again and again. O my brothers… 

And I just cried and cried until I finally fell asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

The days stretched into weeks stretched into months, and it was exactly two months later when I was visited by the malchick who had continued to haunt my dreams almost nightly for the past two months, despite my intent on forgetting him. But I reckon that was just how the mind worked and the things that you try to forget always come back in the clearest memories, O my brothers. 

Twas another Sunday evening, when the four of us were once again engrossed in our usual game of Batzkritz, this time equipped with cancers in our rookers that I had nicked from one of the rozzes this morning. 

“Nice one, Prettyboy,” Jay said as I managed to flick a pebble straight into Beaver’s pile and sent it scattering all over the floor. Beaver gave an annoyed huff. 

I could viddy a like malicious glint in Jay’s glazzies, and he then sent his pebble direct into my pile, sending my hard-earned pebbles flying in all directions. 

“You bastard.” And I blew a mouthful of smoke into his litso in like annoyance, though I really wasn’t mad. 

“Be a sport now,” Jay chuckled, fanning the smoke away. He then blew his own cloud into my litso, and I poked him hard in the ribs. Ow ow ow he went. 

“Shut up, you two. I’m going to win now,” Big D said, rubbing his palms together. 

“Oh no…” Jay said as Big D positioned his pebble on the ground to send it right into Jay’s pile. And Big D gave his pebble a flick and we watched as it soared towards Jay’s pile. And just as it was about to collide with the pile the door to our cell flew open with a bang. 

We four jumped at the noise and skorried to extinguish our cancers and hide them as one of the rozzes came strutting in. 

“What’s all this then?” The rozz creeched at us, viddying from us to the scattered pebbles all over the floor. “And how the hell did you get cigarettes? That’s an extra hour a day in the workshops for a week for each of you!” 

“And you,” He pointed at me. “You have a visitor.” He like rolled his glazzies. “Sodding bastards,” The rozz muttered as I followed him out of the cell and through the hallways and into the malenky visiting room again. 

And he was standing with his back to me as I entered the room, and all of a sudden I was all too aware of the hideous one piece suit that I was wearing, of the dirt on my rookers and between my long yellowed fingernails, and the von of like stale sour sweat on me that lingered in every corner and crevice of this hellhole. I ran my fingers through my matted hair like trying to straighten it out, and I hadn’t shaved in two weeks, O my brothers. I reckoned I was a real real horrowshow sight to behold, in the literal sense of the word. And I wanted to run back to my cell as skorry as possible before Graham could turn around and viddy me. 

And he turned around. 

And I was transported back to that warm summer day in MELODIA where I first laid eyes on him. That warm summer day where I first viddied this beautiful malchick with the warm brown eyes and the soft pink rot. 

And he looked just a beautiful as he did that day, O my brothers. 

And we just stared at each other for a moment, and for a moment I really considered just taking off running, my brothers, but then his arms were around my neck and I was breathing in the sweet scent of cinnamon mixed with flowery shampoo mixed with cigarette smoke and light hint of sweat. The heavenly scent of Graham. 

“I stink,” I said, and he laughed, with the soft tinkling laugh that was like music to my ears, oh oh oh my brothers. And he stopped, like self-conscious, and looked toward the doorway. But the rozz wasn’t paying us any attention, he was standing in the hallway with his back to us as he smoked a cancer. 

And then he kissed me. And it was the sweet salty tart flavour of Graham, the taste I never could forget, try as I might. And it was all here, the sight and smell and voice and taste and touch of my dreams. Bliss and heaven. The memories, the feelings, the months of longing, all materialised in front of me. 

Graham viddied over my shoulder toward the doorway again, then he looked at me. 

“You promised me you would come back.” 

“I’m sorry, Gra.” And it was all I could govoreet, my brothers, when I realised how he had been waiting for me, for the past two months, and how he would have to wait for me for the next two years, and how I was nothing but a thief, and a liar, and I just couldn’t couldn’t couldn’t… 

Couldn’t let him wait for me any longer. 

This was all my fault. 

I shook my head. No no no… 

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said. And he looked confused at my slovos, my brothers. 

“Wha-“ 

And I almost couldn’t bring myself to govoreet that, my brothers, so so so painful it was, but I didn’t deserve him, and he didn’t deserve all the pain that I was bound to put him through, so I said, “I don’t want you here.” 

“Dames, I don’t understand.” 

“What do you not understand?” My voice was rising now. 

And Graham recoiled a malenky bit at my rising tone, and my heart clenched at the sight of it, but I had to say it. I had to make him understand, that it was no good, that I was no good. I was going out further and further into the darker and darker grey, and he would inevitably be dragged in, by the tide and turn, though not of life, but of my doing. 

“I’m going to be here for two years. Two years.” I stressed on the last two syllables. 

“I don’t mind,” he said. “I just want to be with-“ 

“You really don’t understand, do you?” And I noticed my voice was getting still louder, so I hurriedly lowered it so the rozz wouldn’t come running.   
“Listen to me, Graham Coxon. I’m. A. Criminal.” I said, and he winced at that final word. 

And my entire plott and gulliver was like creeching and creeching and creeching in protest, my brothers, but I steeled myself and continued. “You don’t know who I am, you don’t know the things that I’ve done, you know nothing about me.” 

“But we-“ 

“We what? What we did that day was just a fling we had.” I paused. “Nothing more.” 

“I don’t believe you,” he said. 

“You don’t believe me?” And I had to put real effort into keeping my goloss down now, my brothers. 

And his goloss was rising now, too. “You’re just saying that because… because you think I will wait till you get out of prison. And you don’t want me to wait, but I will.” 

I feigned a noise of like exasperation, but that voice was creeching and creeching and creeching in my gulliver, stop stop stop. And it took every ounce of my willpower to continue my act. I needed Graham to hate me, to hate me so so so much he would never want to see my face ever again. 

“Oh you’re sure about that, are you?” 

“Yes.” But his voice trembled a malenky bit, and I could see the uncertainty flash in his glazzies. 

“I’m going to make myself clear now, Graham Coxon. That night when I saved you was just a matter of coincidence, I just happened to be there at the right place at the right time. I was drunk, it was convenient, and what we did the next day was just us having a malenky bit of fun, that’s all. If I weren’t thrown into this hellhole I would’ve kept up with you for a bit more fun, but here I am, and I’m going to be here for a while, and you’d much rather realise the damned truth sooner than later. We had our fling, and I reckon we both enjoyed it while it lasted, but that chapter is over now, brother, and i reckon you should get on with your life, and I with mine.” 

“You… you don’t mean that.” And I could viddy the tears welling up in his glazzies, and my heart clenched. 

I carefully arranged my expression into one like boredom. “I do.” 

“No…” he was shaking his gulliver now, “I know what you’re trying to do.” 

“Do you really?” I asked. “Well, if you really knew anything about me at all, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we? I don’t even know why you thought to come here today. You viddy this mesto here properly, Graham, open your glazzies and viddy it real real horrowshow and proper. Then viddy me properly, then viddy yourself properly, and think, why are you even wasting any time with a malchick like me?” 

“You… You speak like them,” Graham said in a whisper. 

“That’s right,” I replied. “And this, this mesto here.” I gestured around me. “It’s where the malchicks like me who disbehave get to spend our time. And I’ll be real real straight with you, brother, for I don’t want to waste any more of your time. But if I’m being real real honest, if I were you, I’d skorry out of this mesto as fast as my nogas can carry me. What’s it going to be then, eh?” 

And Graham viddied me with his glazzies full of tears now and shook his head in like disbelief. “No…” 

“Oh, oh yes, brother.” I nodded.

“Why?” 

“Like I just said.” And I rolled my glazzies. ”I did fancy you for a malenky bit, brother, that bit is true, but I honestly thought you would’ve forgotten all about it by now,” And it was like I was on fire but at the same time dozens of knives were stabbing me all over, again and again, and my gulliver was going to explode, but I added, “Just like I did.” 

And he finally govoreeted what I wanted him to, “I hate you.” 

And it was what I had wanted him to say, my brothers, but slooshying that, it was like hell, O my brothers. And the flames were consuming me from the inside out or maybe it was from outside in, but it was unbearable to hear and i just wanted to cry out. Oh oh oh Bog help us. Please…

And he took off from the room, sobbing for real now, and I just stood there staring at the place in front of me where he had just been occupying. 

This malchick with the warm brown glazzies and soft pink rot, the one that I loved, or maybe it never really was love, or maybe it never really was meant to be love, and I was just a fool to think otherwise, I let my feelings get ahead of me. And it may be the last time we ever saw each other again. For I knew, O my brothers, that even when I would leave the Staja, two years from now, I wouldn’t be able to face him again. 

I just wanted the pain to stop and I willed numbness over me. 

Numb numb numb. 

And so the months pass by in numbness, my brothers. I worked, exercised, ate, played Batzkritz, slept, and just let the cycle continue, again and again and again, and I just let the days like fall through me, again and again and again. 

And soon, Dave’s time in the Staja was up, and I got to bid him goodbye as we were washing the dishes in the kitchens after mess, as like our assigned duty. And I thanked him, and he govoreeted at me not to mention it, and we embraced, and by the next morning he was gone. 

I owed him a lot, I did. 

And not long after Dave left, Jay left. And it was like I was left with this odd sort of like hole in my chest. I liked him, though I could not say I truly knew anything about him at all, my brothers, but I reckon he did make this hellhole a malenky bit less hellish, along with Big D and Beaver. Their sentences would be up soon, too, and then I would be left all alone, and I reckon I deserved it, just like I had left em all alone, and left… him. 

I didn’t think about him anymore these days, though that wasn’t the truth, my brothers. I thought about him when I was thinking that I shouldn’t be thinking about him, and that process just sort of repeated every notchy before I went to bed, and every morn when I just woke up, the times when there was nothing else to occupy my mind or I wasn’t alert enough to pretend he didn’t exist. 

And I tried pretending, though I realised it was like I was lying to myself, and it didn’t work, I was still thinking about him when I was thinking of not thinking about him. Or when I was actively trying to pretend he didn’t exist. And I was tired of lying, to my poor old em, to myself. 

Most importantly to him. Maybe one would not consider it lies, my brothers, but I knew I lied not with my words, but with my actions. And it was my greatest fear, my brothers, that my actions and motives be like them, and I was one of them now, drawn by the tide and turn of life into the darker and darker grey.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have reached the midway point of the story woohoo ;)) Thank you so much for the kudos and comments, they really mean a lot :) This chapter was a particularly difficult one to write but I hope you enjoy

It was in the beginning of spring, the day I was let out of the Staja. I wasn’t supposed to be let out yet, that I was certain of. I had only been there for nine months. But one of the rozzes had come to fetch me in the early morning before the morning meal, and I was given back my old platties and possessions, wallet and tiny lamp, though they kept my britva, and the rozz unlocked the malenky door in the wall and I was out. 

I didn’t even get to say goodbye to Big D and Beaver. 

And as I made my way, I realised that all I had been viddying for the past nine months were metal and brick and the fluorescent lights of the Staja, and I was surprised to see green green grass by the side of the road and the trees and the birds flying across the sky. And I was free like them, yet I was unsettled. 

They had made a mistake, surely, by letting me out before even half my sentence was over? And they offered no explanation. And I was surprised at myself, that I actually felt a bit like a part of me was missing, the kind of like reminiscence of a place that you left after you’d been there a long time. 

And it was just strange, my brothers. 

And I trudged along the dirt roads between the trees and the green green grass by the side of the road. Back home. 

***

It was back in MELODIA when I saw him again, less than a week later. And it was so strange that we would meet again in the same way, my brothers, like a film with the same scene, but the characters were different. And I didn’t notice him there until he was right at the counter in front of me with two discs in his rooker. And I reckon he hadn’t noticed me earlier either, for when our glazzies met across the counter it was like time had stopped, or warped, and I was back in that summer day nine months ago when I had first met him, in this very spot. 

Neither of us spoke for a moment. Graham then threw the discs down on the counter, spun on his heels and skorried out, bells tinkling in his wake. And I was too stunned to speak, my brothers, and I opened my rot to call him back but I couldn’t form the slovos, and I knew it was no use, O my brothers. 

That night, as I was closing up MELODIA, however, I found his wallet on the floor in front of the counter that I hadn’t noticed all day. And for a minoota, it crossed my mind that Graham had dropped it there on purpose. 

But that wasn’t possible. He couldn’t even stomach the sight of me, or why would he have left so skorry without a single word? 

And I didn’t know what to do, my brothers, and I reckon the logical way would have been to wait till he came around looking for it, but it was my chance to speak to him again, although I wasn’t sure if I could, or should. 

Fifteen minutes later, I found myself standing on his doorstep, his wallet in one rooker, as I raised my other rooker to knock. And I just held my rooker up like that for minoota, or maybe it was an hour, desperate to but too afraid to knock. I let my hand down then raised it up again, up and down and up and down.

I finally steeled myself and put my fist to the wood, once, as hard as I could. I wouldn’t have the courage to knock again. 

There was the sound of glass shattering and I considered running away then but the door swung open. 

O my brothers. 

Graham was standing there in the doorway, half empty bottle in hand, swaying on the spot. He squinted hard at me like he was trying to recognise who I was. 

I opened my rot then closed it. He continued to squint at me. 

I tried again. “Gra…”

He grabbed me suddenly and pulled me into the house and pressed his mouth firmly against mine. And the taste of beer in his mouth was strong but I could still taste beneath it that familiar sweet salty tart flavour laced with cigarettes, and hot and cold rushed through me all at once, and I put my hands on his cheeks as our mouths remained locked in the kiss. Oh Graham… 

We broke apart and his lips came on mine harder, him leaning on me and pressing me hard against the doorframe. He put his fingers through my hair and tugged, and I gladly opened my mouth wider so that the taste of him was all all all over my tongue. 

He grabbed a fistful of my hair and like started to drag me toward the bedroom. It hurt but I let him, and I let him grab me and shove me onto the bed, and his force was much greater now when he was drunk. O my brothers. 

“Graham…” I began as I sat up, not knowing what I was going to say. And I didn’t know if it was any use trying to talk to him, brothers, him being as drunk as he was, but I felt like I owed him some sort of explanation, even though the krovvy rushing through my plott and the frantic thudding of my heart in my ears was making it very very difficult to concentrate on talking. 

He grabbed a bottle from the pile on the bedside table and thrust it into my rookers. 

“Gra…” 

“Oh, shut up and drink with me,” he slurred. 

I viddied all the empty bottles laying on the floor and put my rookers gently on his forearms. “Gra, you’ve had a lot to drink already.”

“I’m nineteen now.”

“Right, I know but-“ 

“It’s my birthday.” 

“Oh,” I was really surprised and it didn’t fully register, but I wished him on like reflex, 

“Happy birthday.” 

“Drink with me…” he whined, pressing the bottle harder into my rookers. 

I shook my gulliver hard, like trying to shake away all the inappropriate thoughts and desires that were circulating so fast that my head was spinning. It was like his advance on me in the doorway had aroused the wild beast in my chest and I was going mad mad mad for him, all over again. And all the emotions, the joy of seeing him, and the sadness, and the guilt and the shame and the burning desperate desire to just feel his skin on mine again were rushing in and I was like skorrying to slam the door shut before they all burst through and I wouldn’t be able to think straight anymore. 

I shook my head again and squeezed my glazzies shut. “I… I really shouldn’t.” 

“Oh, shut up.” And his voice was rising now, my brothers. “I shouldn’t even have bothered…” 

“Graham…”

He shook my hand from his arm. His voice started to rise in volume and pitch. “You lot are always the same every year, aren’t you? Every single sodding year.” 

“Graham, I-“ 

“SHUT UP! YOU LIED TO ME! AFTER EVERYTHING I DID FOR YOU! EVERYONE LIES TO ME! YOU YOU! ARGH!” And he hurled the bottle straight at the wall. I flinched as the shards burst outwards and tinkled onto the floor in a spray of beer. 

I was starting to get worried now, O my brothers, and my mind began to clear a malenky bit, thank Bog above. 

“I’m sorry, Graham. I’m really sorry. I…” 

“That’s what they all say,” he muttered. “So are you going to drink with me or not?” 

“Alright, alright,” I said. So I obliged, my brothers, and Graham kept forcing the bottles on me, another after another after another, until I was starting to get tipsy. 

“Oh, I hate you so much, Dames, do you know that?” Graham said as he pressed his mouth on mine. 

“Yeah, me too,” I mumbled against his lips. 

His hand slipped under my shirt and began moving up my chest and I moaned into his mouth at the contact. My gulliver was swirling slowly from the numerous beers but the heat was rising again as he slid his other hand into my trousers.

He was moving faster now, removing my shirt and trousers and his own. Then hiis arms and legs were on me, pinning me to the bed with his weight. And he was going faster than I could keep up, and all I could think of was that I was more drunk than I thought I was, and a terrible feeling began to churn in my guttiwuts and I was beginning to panic. 

In his drunken state he was much more forceful, and I was gasping for air now. Graham came down hard on me and slammed me against the bedside table, and all the empty bottles came crashing down and shattered on the floor. 

“Slow down,” I gasped, and Graham slapped me across the cheek and I cried out in pain. He grabbed my throat and was coming at me roughly. He was fierce with his teeth too, leaving sores all over my mouth and jaw and body. 

And he was touching me everywhere, just like I wanted him to, O my brothers. But it wasn’t what I wanted. There was no spark, none of the electricity that came with his touch like it had the last time, only fear.

And I thought I was being selfish, brothers. I was always making it about me and how I felt. And it made me feel sick.

No no no. Graham was right, I lied to him. And if this was the way he wanted to get back at me, I was at his mercy.

I was reaching my limit, but he was showing no signs of slowing down. And I was sick with panic and fear and confusion and the amount of alcohol in my system. I just wanted it all to end. 

He finally stopped and I collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion, and he too lay down beside me. I turned away to face the wall, not wanting to face him and extremely confused with how I felt. And I was feeling too much, my brothers, and thinking too much, where it all went wrong. 

After several minutes, Graham’s breathing finally began to slow. When his breathing was steady I slowly got up and began to put on my platties, careful not to wake him, though I was sure he would be out till morning. 

I slipped out of his apartment and made my way back to my own.


	12. Chapter 12

I reached my apartment and went into my bedroom and locked the door. The strength immediately left my nogas and I just slid down the door and onto the floor. 

I didn’t feel them coming but I was aware of them as the tears slid down my cheeks and dripped into my lap. This immense weight in my chest, I didn’t know what was wrong. I only knew it was wrong, that it was all wrong wrong wrong.

Damon always knew what he was doing, even when he wasn’t happy about it. He had his wits about, always wits about. And I was feeling less and less like Damon and more and more like a pathetic disgusting unsalvageable mess. 

And I was lucky enough that at least drunk Graham was still willing to look me in the eyes. But I didn’t understand why I felt that way about Graham tonight, the malchick with the warm brown glazzies and soft pink rot, whom I loved, or thought I loved, and it scared me. It scared me so much. 

I knew it was unfair of me to think of him in this way, that it should be him thinking this way of me and not the other way round. I was the one who led him on and manipulated him. And as much as I could try to justify to myself, I had hurt him. This was all my fault and honestly there was no one else for me to blame but me. 

I woke up the next morning on the floor sore all over my plott again and headed to work. I went through the day in a like stupor, and after I had closed up I knew not what to do. I knew that I had to speak to Graham, or I was going to drive myself mad, but every fibre of my being was resisting. O my brothers. 

The sun set, and it cast a deep orange coloured light on the buildings as I slowly made my way to Flatblock 6c and up the stairs. The door to Graham’s apartment was left slightly ajar. I could slooshy some noise coming from inside and I rapped on the wood with my knuckles. There was no response but I could still hear the muffled noise. And I should have taken this as my cue to leave, my brothers, but I stepped inside. I viddied around the living room and saw the huge painting laying on the coffee table with a half empty bottle of champagne beside it. 

I made my way around the couch to get a better look at the painting. Parts of it seemed to glow under the evening light coming in from the windows. It didn’t look like one of Graham’s, and sure enough the signature at the bottom right corner was not his. It was rather abstract, my brothers, and I was no artist myself, but from what I could discern it looked to be two men in a like garden, judging from the patches and dots and swirling lines of green. And they were locked tightly in an embrace. I viddied it closer. No, not two men. It was a man and an angel, for it seemed one of them had something like wings protruding from his back. 

Suddenly, a sharp laugh issued, and I immediately tore my eyes from the painting and looked up. But there was no one. The laugh seemed to have come from the direction of Graham’s bedroom, so I made my way slowly and quietly towards it. 

Graham’s bedroom door was completely open, and my initial shock quickly turned into horror, when I saw that he was not alone. 

Graham was standing in the middle of the room, arms wrapped around and mouth locked in a kiss… 

With Alex. 

And I was viddying it clearly before me, brothers, but my mind was not able to process it. And I just stood there quietly, rooted to the floor in shock. It was exactly like a nightmare where nothing made sense but everything felt far far too real, and I just wanted to wake up. 

I viddied as Graham and Alex finally parted. Graham finally noticed me standing there in the doorway and let out an audible gasp. Alex’s head turned in my direction and I could feel his glazzies like burning into mine as we stared at each other. 

“Dames?” Graham began in a goloss that sounded so incredibly small. “What are you…” But he trailed off as he viddied the both of us from Alex to me and then back to Alex again, and my chest clenched a malenky bit as I viddied his glazzies widen in fear. However, Alex paid him no attention as he continued to stare at me. 

And Alex’s expression was like stone as he slowly made his way towards me, and I just stood there unsure how to react, but I could feel the itching in my curled up palms as they began to sweat. Alex stopped in front of me. Suddenly, the strong von of his cologne hit me, and I gagged. 

Alex shoved me back against the wall and then tolchocked me hard in the guttiwuts, knocking the wind out of me. I was feeling light-headed now, although not from the tolchock he had just dealt. He kept tolchocking me in the gut, and I had no strength to defend myself. 

“Alex, what are you doing?” Graham shrieked, and he grabbed Alex’s shoulders and tried to pull him back but Alex just shrugged him off and continued going at me. Black spots flashed before my glazzies. 

I felt it before I saw it, Alex’s britva piercing into my stomach and the krovvy stained silver blade as he withdrew it. Graham was creeching at Alex now and grabbing at his arms. Then the heat blossomed in my gut, and the heat was so intense, white and hot, it was like blinding me. Then the pain came and I sank onto the floor. 

The black spots were flashing rapidly now before my glazzies and I tried to look at Graham. I viddied tears running down his face and I blacked out.


	13. Chapter 13

The sound of rustling by my ear woke me and I tried to open my glazzies. My eyelids had like stuck together so I raised my rooker to my litso to rub at them and I felt something trailing along with my arm. The faint von of like alcohol and smug and clean filled my nostrils. And when I managed to open my glazzies properly I could viddy in the dim light the tube inserted into the back of my hand. 

The figure beside me stirred. Graham was asleep in a chair beside my bed with his arms draped over the rail of the hospital bed. His position looked so uncomfortable. I reached out and ran my fingers lightly through his hair. It was soft as always, like everything about him, before everything went wrong. 

Thankfully, I had withdrawn my hand before Graham woke up. 

“Dames?” Graham adjusted his otchkies. 

I didn’t answer but it was clear that I was awake. I tried to sit up but the terrible pain in my stomach prevented me from doing so. 

“Don’t,” Graham said, pushing me back down lightly onto the bed. I closed my glazzies for a minoota at the sharp pain until it dulled down to a throb. 

Neither of us spoke for a while as we viddied each other. “Why?” I finally asked him. 

He shifted his gaze so that he was looking toward my nogas as he spoke. “How do you want me to answer that?” 

“I don’t know,” 

Graham gave a long drawn out sigh. 

“Why Alex… of all people?” I questioned. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Alex… he…” And I realised that to explain the problem with Alex meant having to explain everything, O my brothers. 

“What?” 

I just shook my gulliver. 

“Look,” Graham began. “You were the one who told me you didn’t want anything more to do with me. We had our ‘fling’ as you liked to call it, and ‘that chapter is over now’ as you so aptly phrased it, did you not?” Graham’s eyes met mine as he said the words ‘did you not’ and now it was my turn to stare at my own nogas. 

My litso felt hot with something like shame. “I’m sorry,” I said, looking Graham in the eyes now. 

Graham just nodded and sighed again. 

“Tell me,” he said. “How do you know Alex?” 

“It’s a long story.” I wanted to tell him everything, but I was scared. 

“Well, I’ve got the time.” 

I debated it for a moment, my brothers, but then I decided that I had to tell him or we could never work out. And I wanted things to work out between us, so so so badly. 

So I told him, about em, about Alex, about the night that I was caught. And I had never told anyone, not even em, and it felt as though the words were pouring out of me far too skorry, and I hadn’t realised after bottling it up for so long just how desperate I had become. So so so desperate to just let it all out. 

By the time I had finished, I could feel the enormous weight on my chest lifting, and I almost cried out in relief. There were tears in Graham’s eyes.

“Dames…” 

“Gra.” And I reached out and laced my fingers through his. He grasped my hand in both of his. I tugged his hand lightly towards me and he shifted close enough that I could cup my other hand around his cheek. 

“I’m so sorry,” Graham said. 

“No… it’s me who should be sorry.” 

Graham drew closer and I tilted my head to meet his lips. I parted my lips and let the taste of Graham flood over my tongue. And this time, there was no fear, no disgust, no lies, no barrier to prevent me from tasting him fully. Sweet. Salty. Tart. The flavour of cigarettes. I shivered at his touch. 

O my brothers. 

I could feel the heat rushing up all the way from my nogas to my litso that met the heat from his warm hands on my cheek. I wrapped my rookers behind his neck. I wanted to be closer, closer closer closer, until there was no more space between us. 

Graham pushed the bed rail down and I slowly shifted to make space for him, the terrible pain preventing me from moving as fast as I wanted. 

Graham laid down beside me and in the moment we parted our mouths for air, he whispered into my ear, “I could never forget about you, no matter how hard I tried.” 

“Me neither.” I brushed my lips over his again. “I could never ever forget you.” 

Graham reached behind me and I could feel his warm rooker on the bare skin of my back that wasn’t completely covered by the hospital gown. The heat was so intense, it was driving me mad. In a way that only Graham could, and had, again and again and again. 

I was mad mad madly in love with this malchick in front of me. 

Graham traced his finger down my skin, and I arched into his touch. He gave a small chuckle and he brought his finger up and began stroking the back of my neck now. Oh oh oh my brothers. 

“Stop teasing me,” I pretended to swat his hand away. 

“Shhh…” He pressed his long slender finger to my lips and began planting kisses on my neck. I buried my litso in his hair and breathed in the flowery scent. I couldn’t keep the laugh bubbling up my throat. 

“God, I love you so much,” I mumbled into his soft hair. 

“What?” Graham paused his action to viddy me. And I was staring straight into his warm brown glazzies, and I could viddy the stars in them and the stars all around him, surrounding the most beautiful star of them all, Graham. 

“I love you so much,” I said. 

“That’s the first time you’ve ever said that.” 

“Do you love me, too?” 

Graham laughed. And the beautiful symphony of his tinkling laugh echoed in my ears. “Yes, I love you, too.”

And we kissed again, and it was all Graham. He was all I wanted for eternity. 

As the sun began to rise, the faint rays filtered through the white curtains and fell on his face, bathing his features in a soft glow. But he was more radiant than them. My star to rival the sun, with my whole universe revolving around him. 

And when he smiled at me… I would give anything to see that smile every moment of my life. 

It was too soon, but it was time for Graham to leave. 

“I don’t want you to go,” Now I was the one whining at him like a malenky child this time. 

“I don’t want to either,” he sighed and he pressed his lips to mine again. “I’ll come back after work.” 

I nodded and watched him as he left. 

“I love you,” I called at him. 

“I love you, too.”


	14. Chapter 14

I couldn’t keep the smile creeping up my litso as the nurses and doctor came to check up on me, so I just gave up. I reckon I looked like a proper idiot, but it mattered not to me, it mattered not in the slightest. 

There was not much I could do so one of the nurses gave me the day’s papers to read. And when I held the pages in my rookers it was so foreign, it felt like I hadn’t read the papers in years, O my brothers. 

There was some talk in the paper about the development of some techno they called the Ludovico technique or whatnot, to fight rising crime rates in the country. There wasn’t much else that was interessoval, just the adverts for this and that and graphs and numbers for stock markets and it all meant nothing to me, my brothers. 

And then I heard him before I saw him, heard the door open and the clicking of his dress shoes against the tiled floor. 

“Get out,” I said, not wanting to so much as look at him. 

“Hello, brother,” he said in his smooth gentleman’s goloss. And he sat down in the chair that Graham had previously occupied. 

I didn’t govoreet anything more nor did I look at him, I just stared straight at the wall ahead as the von of his cologne and cigarette smoke slowly drifted towards me. 

Alex let out a very audible sigh. “My apologies, brother. I know not what came over me in that moment. But that’s behind us now, hmm?” 

“I don’t want anything more to do with you.” 

“Now now, you know that’s not how this works,” Alex gave a chuckle. “How am I supposed to get anyone to help me, then? No one as fitting as thyself for the job, brother.”

“You can find someone else to do your dirty work. We’re done,” I said, still determined not to look at him. 

“Now now now, so intent on breaking my heart, brother? But I reckon you have the right to be mad at your poor old brother Alex, eh? This is all about the malchick Graham isn’t it?” 

At his mention of Graham’s name I turned so skorry to face him, all determination to not look at him suddenly evaporated. “How dare you talk about Graham?” I snarled at him. Calm down, Damon. He’s trying to get a rise out of you. 

“Am I not allowed to? Well, he told me all about you.”

I didn’t answer. 

“Cancer?” Alex stuck the packet out at me but I just ignored him. After he had lit one for himself he lit another one and jammed it between my fingers. 

He took a drag and wafted the smoke away with his rooker. I lifted the cancer to my rot but didn’t break my gaze. 

Alex swept at a speck of dust on his ironed blazer and then turned to viddy me casually. 

“Do you not want to hear all that Graham had to say about you?” 

When Alex saw that I wasn’t about to answer he just carried on. “You really upset him, did you know that?” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Poor malchick broke down crying almost everyday at work.” 

And I suddenly remembered, my brothers, and I couldn’t believe I was so awfully stupid to not have thought of it before. Alex was Graham’s superior. Oh no no no. Oh Bog help us. 

Alex must have noticed the change in my expression and I skorried to cover it up but he had already noticed. “Thank Bog above for his sakes I was there to comfort him.” 

And in that moment, the anger started burning from the wound in my stomach all the way up to my gulliver. Hot boiling blinding rage and pure hatred towards Alex, for ruining my chance with Graham, for ruining the past two years of my life. I had to clench my fist to keep it from shaking. 

And I knew, that this was no more than a game for Alex, his way of toying with me, of reminding me that I was his pawn, damned to serve him and let him move me around, helpless. 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“You broke his heart. Graham is naive. But you,” Alex slowly blew out a cloud of smoke. “You should have known better.” He leaned in closer to me, so close that I could feel his warm breath. “Tell me, is that what you call love?”

And I had to keep repeating to myself again and again, my brothers, that all Alex was govoreeting were lies. All lies all lies all lies. But I couldn’t stop his words echoing in my gulliver. 

Tell me, is that what you call love? 

Alex’s words were playing in my head over and over again. 

“Stop.” 

I wasn’t looking at Alex anymore now. I took a drag at the cancer he gave me.

“What do you actually want from me?” 

Alex put a finger under my chin to tilt my head towards him. I hated the gesture but I didn’t know how to fight it. His skin was like ice on my own. 

“Oh, Damon,” I hated the way he said my name. “Has anyone ever told you how absolutely gorgeous you are?” 

I couldn’t read his expression, though I was sure as hell he could read mine. Gentleman Alex was far more clever and cunning than I could ever be. And even as I recognised the seed of doubt he was planting in my mind I could feel it take root. And I was voluntarily watering it. And I hated just how vulnerable I was before him. 

Alex drew me closer to him, and I only knew that he was too close, the von of his cologne triggering the alarms that were sounding off in a shrill and piercing and terrible cacophony in my head. “I’m a simple man. Just you. Just you will do.” 

And the sense of everything being horribly wrong, it was there but I couldn’t feel it anymore. And it was like I was conscious of everything that was going on but I wasn’t there anymore. And I was viddying myself from far away, frozen in fear and despair and helpless as my universe was now spinning out of its axis and propelled into the abyss, as Alex pressed his lips against mine. 

Alex was going softly now, taking his time. And I wasn’t able to react at all, I could only viddy myself from far far away as I felt his cold contact on my skin. 

Alex licked at my lips and I parted them, but I remained in that space far far away, I didn’t want to know what he felt like. And when he finally drew back after what felt like agonising hours all I was left with was a bitter taste on my tongue. 

“Is this what you want?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could make any judgement against it. 

“Not quite.” Alex cocked his head to the side with a smirk on his lips. And I knew that he didn’t care, and I knew that all the pain and shame and disgust would only leave me on my knees, begging at his feet for mercy, and he knew that too. I knew it. He knew it. We both knew each other knew it. “But we’ll get there.” 

“What about Graham?” And I was pleading now. “You were just using him all this time?” 

“Are you really sure about that, brother? Maybe the person you should be asking is yourself.” 

Alex laughed as he lowered his face to mine, blowing the scent of cigarettes into my face. “Get well soon, brother.” 

And he stalked out of the door, the clicking of heels slowly fading to silence.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad to be back with another update! As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.

Part Three

I was trying hard not to think about my encounter with Alex, and tried to busy my mind with other things, and by that evening I had a plan. Not that I was sure it was going to work out, brothers. Far from it, but I had to act on it skorry or it would never work out. This was my chance. 

So when Graham came that evening, as he had promised, I tried to tell him as soon as I could. 

“How are you?” 

“I’m fine, the doctors said I can leave by tomorrow.” Earlier this afternoon, one of the doctors came and gave me a shot, and the pain had like completely gone by now and I honestly thought they should have given it to me sooner. They said I was lucky, I was. The wound wasn’t deep and didn’t hit any vitals. They say I was lucky, I say Alex knew exactly what he was doing. 

“That’s great.”

“Gra, I need to tell you something.” 

“Wha- what?” he said, taken aback by my urgent tone. 

I glanced towards the closed door and the drawn curtains before continuing, “Gra, listen. We need to leave.”

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s Alex. He won’t let me go, he won’t let you go either. We need to leave this place as soon as possible.” 

Graham fell silent. 

“Please,” I said. 

“Leave to where?” 

“I don’t know, just as far away from here as possible. We… we can start over.”

“I… I don’t know, Dames. It’s just that I… nothing.” Graham looked down. And I reckon it might have been unreasonable for me to expect much, brothers, but I thought Graham would understand just how imperative this was. 

“You do understand why we need to leave right?”

He just nodded. 

“I’ll pick you from your place tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t you... can’t you wait a little longer?”

And I could feel my golso like jam up as he said that. The word ‘no’ was on the tip of my tongue, brothers, for I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. But I wanted so so much more to say yes, because I couldn’t bear to think about the possibility of leaving Graham behind. 

I had to take em and leave, as skorry as possible, before the seeds of doubt could take root. And I definitely didn’t know how Alex would react to it. Would he come hunt me down, or would he decide I wasn’t worth his time? My best hope was the latter, but if it were the latter, there was no doubt he would prey on Graham next, but at least Alex would treat him well, or so I prayed. If I stayed, there would be no hope left for either of us. 

“No, Gra. I’m sorry. Alex is after me, you already know that. If I leave, he’ll be after you next, that’s why you need to come with me. If we both stay, he’s going to use us against each other.” 

“How do you know that?” 

I couldn’t help but start to get impatient now. Didn’t Graham understand just how serious this was? “He came, Gra. He came after you left this morning.”

“And?” 

“He…” I really couldn’t bring myself to govoreet that, O my brothers.

Graham frowned. “He what? What did he do?” 

I said it as skorry as I could in a single breath, “He said he wanted me and kissed me.” 

My litso was burning. 

“What does that mean?”

“What do you think it means?” What did Graham not understand? I was losing my mind. 

“And you just let him?” 

“What was I supposed to do?” 

Graham frowned and threw up his rookers. “Well, anything.” 

“I…” 

“Well, I don’t know,” Graham huffed. “It just sounds to me as if that’s what you wanted him to do.” 

“What?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, brothers. “Are you listening to yourself, Gra? I just told you that I’m leaving to escape from Alex and you act as if I’m bragging about it.” My voice was rising even louder now. “And I’m not the only one who kissed him for that matter.” 

“That’s different. You were in prison at that time. You were the one who told me yourself that you didn’t want anything to do with me! What did you expect me to do?”

“Yes, exactly! What do you expect me to do now?” 

“You could have at least done something!” 

“I… you don’t understand.” 

“This is just to get back at me, isn’t it?”

“No, what the hell, Graham, of course not!” It was either I had gone mad or he had gone mad now. O my brothers. 

“Then explain! Don’t just keep telling me I don’t understand!” 

“I was worried that he was going to hurt you now that I’ve told you about him! The reason I was even in prison in the first place was because of him and now you’re acting as if I’m having a fun time with him cheating on you, is that it?” 

Graham looked like he was about to say something more but then he just gave an indignant huff and looked away. I felt a malenky bit bad for yelling at him but I wasn’t about to apologise. 

I slowly unfurled my fingers that were shaking from clenching the sheets so hard. But the silence stretched longer and longer, and the only noise was my heavy breathing and I didn’t like it.

“I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, okay?” I said. I tried my best to soften my tone. “Please think about it?” 

Graham just nodded but didn’t look at me. I pressed my fingers on the spot between my eyebrows and rubbed at it, to like rub away the pain throbbing slowly in my forehead. 

Graham got up from the chair and walked towards the window. I viddied him as he slowly opened the window and lit a cancer. His silhouette was outlined by the light of the luna as the smoke from his cancer drifted out the window, carried by the light breeze. 

I lay there on my side, trying to slow my ragged breathing, viddying his back until I fell asleep.


	16. Chapter 16

The next morning I woke up with a stiffness in my neck from lying in the wrong position. No Graham was to be seen. 

The doctor gave me another shot and then I was allowed to leave. 

I went to MELODIA first, and the bell jingled as I walked in. Andy was there at the counter, and he looked up as I entered. 

“Yer back.” 

“Morning, Andy.” 

Andy grunted in reply. I glanced at the shelves lining the walls loaded with all the popdiscs and rockdiscs and jazz records, at the clearance bin in the corner, and at the bench in the other corner where all the stereos were where people got to slooshy the records before they bought them. 

“Andy, I’ve come to tell you something.” I looked at him, and I realised that he had just been viddying me the whole time I was looking around the shop. “I’ve come to say goodbye, actually.” 

Andy didn’t govoreet anything for a moment. “Yer leavin,” he finally said. And it was more a statement than a question. 

I nodded. “Thank you, for everything.” 

He grunted. “Take care, son.”

“I will. You too.” As I turned to leave, I glanced back at the stereos on the bench. I had sat there, at the first one, the first time I had slooshied Graham’s record. And it was like a forewarning of some sorts, I reckon, or I had just like manifested the malchick who made it into my life. Even though I didn’t believe in destiny, or fate, all that sort of cal, or maybe I did.

His record was still sitting there on the shelf above it. 

“You can ‘ave a last listen if you want,” Andy called as he disappeared into the back room. I walked over to the shelf and picked up Graham’s record. It felt right in my hands. I realised that I had never really paid attention to the title or the album art before. 

I recognised the art now to be Graham’s, from seeing his artwork in his house. I set the disc on the turntable and placed the needle carefully, and put the headphones on. I just closed my eyes as I slooshied Graham’s voice through the headphones, accompanied by his guitar, and I let myself think of him. Even though I had never stopped. it was really all I ever did ever since that fated summer day nearly a year ago. And it was like pain and relief all at the same time. 

Slightly more than halfway through the record the song that Graham had played for me in his bedroom came on. I remember every single detail from that day, the way his voice shook, the way his hair smelt, the way he fit so perfectly in my arms. Like it had been branded on my mind. 

After I had finished the record I took one last look around the place and left. 

***

I lightly brushed my thumb against the back of em’s hand that was resting on my shoulder. She squeezed my shoulder lightly in response and I put my rooker back on the steering wheel. My left rooker had already started to grow numb from the terrible vibrations of the auto engine. I definitely wasn’t spoiled for choice, brothers, and this was the best one I could find in the dump that hadn’t been all smashed up by the gangs. 

Dave had helped me get it started. I really owed him so so so much that I could only hope to repay, maybe in a lifetime after this one. 

I offered up a silent prayer, to god or Bog or whoever was up there, that this would be enough to take us as far as we needed to go. 

And another prayer that it would be taking Graham too. 

“Damon,” em said quietly. I looked up as a silhouette emerged from the door in the building some distance in front of us. I flashed the single working headlight and saw, in the dim light of the street lamp, the shadow turn towards us where our auto was half-concealed in the side alley. 

For a terrifying, heart-stopping moment I was worried that it might not be Graham but then as the bundled up figure approached us I could see the light reflecting off his otchkies in the dark. 

He stopped several metres away for a moment, then hurried to the passenger side and opened the door. The moment the door thumped shut I backed out of the alley and into the back street. I kept my eyes firmly on the road as I veered through the sparsely lit streets and into the roads among the trees. 

For the next hour, there was only the sound of the growling engine until I finally stole a glance at Graham seated beside me. He was sat straight with his rookers clenching the bag in his lap, completely focused on the road ahead. His gaze flicked towards me and I hurriedly averted my gaze back onto the road. 

The three of us remained silent and I reckon it must have been another two hours before the trees finally began to clear and we turned onto a dirt road that sloped upwards. A look in the rearview mirror earlier told me that em had already fallen asleep in the back. I switched gears and the engine groaned as we began to climb. 

Oh god or Bog or whoever was up there, don’t let us be stranded in the middle of nowhere. I was offering a lot of prayers tonight. O my brothers. 

The sea bordered us on the right as we wound up the hill, and the breeze through the smashed-open windows carried on it the scent of salt and something like dirt. 

I had only one memory of the sea, whisper of one, but that must have been at least three lifetimes ago by now. Or maybe it was all just a dream. 

When we reached the top of the hill I turned off the road and into the open plot by the side. We were on a cliff and in the distance the light from the luna glinted off the rolling waves below. The tide and turn. I got out of the auto and lit a cancer as I walked forwards towards the edge. 

I heard the auto door snap shut behind me and when I turned around I saw Graham leaning against the bonnet with his rookers in his jacket carmans. 

“How are you doing?” I asked. 

“Good.” Graham nodded and dug into the dirt with the tip of his shoe. “You?” 

“Good.” I mimicked Graham’s action and dug at the dirt with my toes. “I was worried that…” I shook my gulliver. “Nothing.”

Graham kept silent and just looked past me at the waves rolling up ahead. 

“It’s beautiful,” he said after a moment. I nodded in response. 

“I’ve never been to the sea before,” He said. “Have you?” 

“Once. Many years ago.”

“Shall we?” I nodded at the auto after a few more minutes. He nodded, and I trudged up to the auto and got the engine started again. 

Em stirred as the engine sputtered back into life. I reached back and wrapped her blanket more securely around her shoulders before pulling out and back onto the road. 

My fingers froze from the frigid ocean air rushing in through the window as the night wore on and reached the verge of daybreak. Graham had fallen asleep as well at some point, gulliver lolling along with the motion of the auto. 

Just as the sun began to creep over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, we reached the edge of a town. 

I prayed this was where we needed to go.


	17. Chapter 17

“Mum, I’m back,” I called as I dropped my keys into the tray by the door. 

I found em in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables for the evening meal. 

“Dear, you’re back.” 

I gave em a quick peck on the cheek. “Is Graham back yet?” I asked, as I picked up a knife and began helping her. Even though it was very obvious that Graham was not back.

I felt my chest clench a malenky bit as I heard the creak of the door being opened and the jangle of keys. 

“Hey, Hazel,” Graham said, stepping into the kitchen. “Oh, Day, you’re back early.” 

“Yeah, I am,” I replied. 

“Graham, you’re back. Can you boil the water, please?” 

“Sure.”

After dinner I watched some telly with em. She seemed to be getting slightly better, although easily tired. After putting her in bed, I found Graham in our room sitting at the desk and scribbling something in his notebook. 

When he saw me entering the room, he hurriedly closed the notebook. 

“What were you writing?” 

“Nothing,” he said, stuffing the notebook in his drawer. 

I sat on the bed and he turned to face me, and we both just viddied each other for a moment, not saying anything. He didn’t join me on the bed, and I wasn’t sure I wanted him too, either. 

“How was… work?” I asked. 

“Same old.” Graham gave a small sigh.

“I’m sorry,” I said. 

Graham just looked at me. “Sorry for what?”

“You know, all this.” 

Graham kept quiet. Perhaps he knew not what to say, and I had to confess, these days I often knew not what to say, either. 

“It’s just-“ he began. “I just wish that things weren’t so complicated.” 

I finally asked him the question that had been on my mind, bothering me for the past month, the one I didn’t have enough courage to ask. “You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?” 

Graham didn’t look at me. 

And it was like a slap to the face that I knew was coming.

And it hurt.

It hurt like hell. 

“But you know that I love you, right?” Graham said, and his voice sounded so small and far away from me. Or maybe I was the one far away from him.

“You know that, right?” Graham said, more earnest now, coming over and sitting down next to me. The mattress sunk a little under our combined weight on the edge, and we slipped a little closer to each other, so that our hands were almost touching. 

When I didn’t respond, Graham grabbed my hand. “Day.” 

I was looking at him, at his warm brown glazzies and soft pink rot. And I was feeling it, the guilt and the hurt, seemingly all over again, like clockwork. Again and again and again. 

I saw his lips part as he began to speak again, and I wordlessly closed the distance, hesitating just a breath away. 

He closed the remaining distance, and it was blissful momentary relief, when I could feel the softness of his lips against mine. 

His fingers brushed against the base of my neck as he ran them through my hair. I slowly wrapped my hands around his waist as tingles trickled down my neck. My rookers found the hem of Graham’s shirt and slipped under them. I could feel the heat flood through them. 

Graham shivered. “Your hands are so cold.” 

His hands reached for mine and he brought them to his mouth. I could feel his warm breath as he gently kissed my fingers. 

“Graham…” 

I sidled in closer to him, half sitting in his lap. I needed to be closer to him. But there existed that painful barrier of averted glances from the corners of our bedroom and the awkward unspoken words that I could never quite formulate.

I ached for his touch. 

He drove me mad mad mad. He always did. 

“I love you.” My goloss cracked. 

“Just give me some time, okay?” Graham said. He cupped his hands around my cheeks. “Please?” 

I could feel them, my brothers, the tears that were threatening, on the verge of spilling over. 

I couldn’t speak, so I pressed my lips back onto his. And he pressed back. The taste of sweet chai lingered on his tongue. 

“I really…” I choked out. “Want this to work out.” I didn’t just want this to work out. I needed it to. 

“Me too, Dames. Just give me some time.” Graham gripped my hands tighter. His glazzies were wide, staring intently into mine, like they were reading me. I wanted him to read me, there were too many things that I could only wish I knew how to say. 

My breath shuddered as I let it out slowly. 

Graham pulled me into him and started stroking my hair with one rooker while the other traced small circles on my back. 

“Let’s get in bed. You’re so cold.” 

I nestled up to Graham and he drew the covers over us. I inhaled deeply the scent of fabric softener on his shirt. We used the same fabric softener but his had a scent that clung to it. The scent that was uniquely his. The scent that I loved. 

“Do you want to tell me about your day?” He asked, not ceasing the light stroking of my hair as I rested my head against his chest. 

“Nothing much exciting. We didn’t have a lot of customers today so Brock had time to teach me how to change gearboxes.” 

“Not exciting?” Graham chuckled.

“Not as exciting as you would think.” I laughed a little too. “I’ll tell you what’s exciting, though.”

“What?” 

“He offered to help repaint our car.” 

“That’s kind of him.” 

“It is.” I tilted my head to look up at Graham. “What colour do you like?” 

“Anything is fine by me. You should ask your mum.” 

I laughed. “Yeah, I should.” 

Another long moment of silence passed. “What was he like?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to hear the answer. 

“Who?” 

“Alex.” 

Graham faced me, confusion and concern laced his features. “Day, why are you asking me this?” 

I shrugged, unsure how to answer. Maybe I was jealous of him. No, not maybe, I was jealous of him. Of the way he still made Graham so enamoured. Of his seamless facade that made everyone bow to his will. Of how he always got what he wanted. Of the way Graham had looked at him. 

Especially of the way he made Graham laugh so easily, something I could no longer do even if I had before. And all I had left to offer was uneasy silence and apprehensive tension that had settled into every single nook and cranny of our relationship. It was all his fault. 

Or maybe it was mine. I could feel the pulse of blood in my ears. 

Even when Graham and I were intimate, there was always that lingering uneasiness. I wondered if I had made the wrong decision. 

“What are you thinking?” Graham asked. 

“He meant a lot to you, didn’t he?” I observed Graham’s facial expression. “He still does.”

“You mean a lot to me as well.” 

“But not more than him.” 

“What’s that supposed to- Why are we even having this conversation?” Graham’s goloss hiked in volume. 

I didn’t want to further aggravate him, brothers, so I said, “No, nothing. Just forget that I asked.” 

Graham gave a long drawn-out sigh. “Day, look. I’m sorry, alright? I know it’s not easy for you but it’s not easy for me either. I need some time as well. Feelings don’t just go away like that. If they did, I wouldn’t be with you right now either.”

Even though he didn’t say it maliciously, the last line stung. Because I knew that he was right. 

“I’m sorry, Gra.” 

“I love you. I really do.”

“I know. I love you too.” 

Warmth spread through me as Graham began to plant little kisses on my cheek and down my neck. I leaned gratefully into his touch. 

Fisting his shirt in my hand, I tugged the neckline down to press my lips against his collarbone. Using tongue and teeth, I managed to elicit from him several grunts of pleasure. Slowly making my way up to his ear I caught the scent of his flowery shampoo and I ran my fingers through his hair, tugging lightly to expose his neck better. 

Graham removed my shirt and flung it away. His strong arms cradled my bare back and chills shot through me as he drew his calloused fingers from the top of my spine all the way down my back. 

My heart rate was speeding up, and I could feel it like thundering hard against my ribcage. I was no longer cold and the familiar rush of krovvy through my gulliver threatened to send my head spinning in circles. Oh my brothers. 

Graham inhaled sharply as I slipped my rooker in his trousers. In response, he unzipped mine and pulled them off. 

Graham laid his rookers on my hips and I gripped his waist tightly. Electricity coursed through me as he slid his hands up and down. And I could feel the desire like a raging monster clawing at every inch of my body while my gulliver felt like it was high high high up in the clouds. Up in bliss and heaven where I was beholding the beautiful angel that was Graham. 

“I want you so much.” My breath came out in ragged gasps. The taste of Graham was all over my tongue and the scent of him was all over my plott. The scent of fabric softener and the hint of cigarette smoke and that scent that was uniquely his. I wanted it all over me. 

I could feel my moans vibrating in the back of his throat as we continued with our hands. And I could feel the buzz of electricity on my skin. Whenever Graham’s skin came in contact with mine there were like sparks shooting out all around us, till even the air was humming with energy. 

The saltiness of Graham’s sweat lingered on my tongue while the heat continued to consume me like a furnace, with our bodies pressed against each other and my legs draped over his hips. 

Graham, Graham, Graham. 

He was so beautiful. 

“Oh, Dames…” Oh, I loved the way my name sounded on his lips. 

“I love you so much.” 

Graham responded with another passionate kiss, licking the corners of my lips and entangling his tongue with my own. Bliss. Heaven. 

I pushed a few stray hairs from his forehead and cupped my hand around his cheek. His eyelashes fluttered slightly over his closed eyes and his breath was warm against my face. 

“You’re beautiful,” I mumbled. I could feel him smile against my lips. 

He played with the hair at the back of my neck, causing tingles to spread all down my neck again. 

“I love you, Damon.” He stared at me with his beautiful warm brown glazzies. “Don’t ever doubt that.” 

“I won’t.” I planted another slow kiss on his soft lips. 

“Promise me.” 

“I promise.”


End file.
